


A Face to Call Home

by Bulbasore



Category: BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, NSFW, Romance, baby gays with some... Spice, but mostly wholesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 20:40:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18880834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bulbasore/pseuds/Bulbasore
Summary: Two years ago, Misaki Okusawa wanted nothing more than to drop Hello, Happy World like a hot potato. Now, entering her third year, she can't imagine life without them.Time waits for no one, and Misaki fears what comes next.





	A Face to Call Home

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in some years, pls be gentle (I also couldn't bear to read 20k of my own writing so if you see typos just... close your eyes)

With one final glance at the paper that had, for the last fifteen minutes, thoroughly instilled her with the desire to pass out on her desk, Misaki slumped back in her seat, shut her eyes, and released what would be the fourth sigh of the day.

The worst part? It had only just begun.

Returning her attention to the task at hand with a notable amount of reluctance, Misaki dared to lay her eyes on the dreary black and white words that filled her with a familiar sense of existential dread: ‘plans for the future’. This wasn’t the first time she found herself at a loss, willing her brain to fill in the blanks with an acceptable response that would convince the instructor she had a sensible plan. Something realistic enough to convince herself that come spring when sakura petals set the backdrop for a picturesque graduation scene, she would step away from Hanasakigawa, diploma in hand, knowing where her path would take her next.

And now, in her third year, choosing that path proved more crucial than ever before. Deciding she spent more time than necessary mulling over the topic and recognizing that any longer would garner little result, she scribbled down the first college that came to mind, major undecided. As per usual.

Misaki Okusawa had no plan.

* * *

 

Focusing in class was hard enough without the incessant kicking of her chair rocking her back and forth, making it impossible to think straight. Misaki ignored it, her knuckles white as the gripped the English literature novel with all the strength of a tired and irritable bear.

Another kick. “Psst!”

Generally when you ignore someone they go away, unless that someone was Kokoro Tsurumaki.

“Pssssst!”

How many times had Misaki told her not to do this during class? It’s been literal years. Anything she told the girl went in one ear and directly out the other. Misaki herself wasn't exactly born a genius, and concentration was key if she intended to pass, at the very least. Average grades were all she needed. They weren't hard to attain either, when there wasn't an actual child causing her seat to rumble as if it were going to take off in T-minus ten seconds.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Oh? The rumbling abruptly stopped, but knowing Kokoro the way she did, Misaki figured it wasn't over just yet. And sure enough, she felt something fly into the back of her head. Paper, probably, judging by the damage done (a mild inconvenience). The instructor caught on rather quickly, shooting the two of them a look that suggested they quit horsing around and pay attention but alas, the Tsurumaki name somehow gave Kokoro innate immunity towards any and all authority. Misaki reached behind her and plucked the paper airplane from her hair, folding it open to reveal the message within.

‘Wanna eat lunch together?’ It read in Kokoro’s big loopy handwriting, alongside some scribbles of the sun and flowers and two humanoid figures presumably holding hands. Below it were two options: yes, one exclamation point, and yes, three exclamation points. Circling neither, Misaki turned the note around and wrote her own question with the same format. ‘pay attention in class?’ Beneath it, she scribbled two identical answers: yes and yes. Folding it up, she discreetly held it behind her and Kokoro swiped it away immediately, as though she’d been waiting.

A few moments of staring at the text and comprehending little to nothing passed before Kokoro returned the note to her. Both of the answers were circled multiple times in glittery pink ink, along with more doodles and an extensive amount of arrows pointing at the original question. Misaki fought the urge to grin like an idiot in the middle of class. Just as her pen hovered over the ‘yes’ with one exclamation mark (she couldn’t allow herself to look _that_ excited), the instructor’s voice interrupted her bubbly haze.

“Tsurumaki-san, please continue where we left off.” After momentary silence, he continued, “Page thirty-six, paragraph four.”

Misaki pocketed the note. She would add it to the collection later.

Kokoro read through the passage flawlessly.

* * *

 

“Would it kill them to slow down?” Misaki muttered under her breath as Hagumi and Kokoro burst into the courtyard, presumably releasing whatever energy they built up during class. White thread stretched across the distance between them, each side connected to a tin can into which the two of them spoke about who knows what. Misaki learned not to ask. More often than not, she ended up with more questions than answers anyway. What was the saying—less is more? Words to live by when you’re the self-appointed babysitter of two literal sunshine incarnates, energy and all. It’s not like she asked for the job, nor did she want it to begin with, but someone had to do it.

“Misakiiii!” Kokoro called out, waving her arm in the air, gesturing for her to join them.

“Mii-kun!” Hagumi echoed in tandem, hopping up and down.

When the woman of the hour looked up, her anxiety spiked. Four eyes between the two of them, and not a single one looking forward. Kokoro and Hagumi both smiled at her, and maybe it might’ve been just a little cute if not for the fact that they were skipping along towards a poor, random bystander with what was essentially a tripwire between them. “A-Ah, watch out!”

Before Misaki could rush forward and stop the oncoming tragedy, the girl had already tripped, stumbling forward and barely regaining her balance as her bag hit the grass with a _thud_. The two idiots gasped, as if it were some freak event that couldn’t possibly have been predicted. “Oh no! I’m so sorry!” Hagumi shouted, unfortunately, into the tin can.

Without missing a beat, Kokoro dropped her end of the makeshift telephone and cartwheeled across the grass, clutching the girl’s bag as her hands pressed against the ground and whipping it around with her as she came full circle. Excellent circus act, maybe, but not so popular when executed in the school’s courtyard where the bag she swung around could very easily be used as a weapon. Accidental blunt force trauma was still a felony, probably, and Misaki could only apologize for so much.

Speaking of which. “I’m so, so sorry about… them.” Misaki bowed, hoping and praying that, as Kokoro grinned from ear to ear and held out the bag, she wouldn't find some way to make the situation worse.

“Sorry about that! We were having so much fun, we didn't see you coming. Oh, I know!” Kokoro beamed, “Come eat lunch with us! I can show you our phone, I’m sure it'll make you smile too–”

The girl swiped her bag from Kokoro’s hands and gave her the patented ‘you're nuts’ look before walking off in the opposite direction with a considerable amount of haste, not a single word spoken. Misaki saw Kokoro’s smile falter for less a moment, but she blinked and it was back at full-mast, as though it had always been that way. A year ago, she might’ve imagined it. She knew better now.

“Come on, let’s go. I’m hungry.” Anyone that stopped to watch Kokoro’s shameless feat of balance and flexibility had gone back to their meals, their entertainment stale and their interest lost.

“Y-Yeah! If we don’t get to our spot quick, someone else might take it!” Hagumi, who’d gone and collected their glorified garbage off the grass. Crumpled in her hands, the string tangled.

Kokoro nodded, pumping a fist in the air. “You’re right! Lead us to victory, Lieutenant Hagumi!”

“Please,” Misaki conceded, “lead us to lunch.”

It bothered her, the looks they were given from time to time. A narrow-minded, obstinate Misaki of the past would have been embarrassed by it, but honestly? These days, it got on her nerves more than anything else—maybe it was because once upon a time, she was one of them. Things were different now, though. Misaki changed. And together with Hello Happy, they changed the minds of others, too. But even so, she couldn’t expect everyone to understand.

Air left Misaki’s lungs in a deep sigh of relief as the trio seized their usual bench, Kokoro sat in between them, her fingers thoroughly wrapped in the thread she tried to detangle. It rivaled that of earbuds left in one’s pocket and she wanted to tell the girl it was beyond hope, to start eating before they ran out of time, but she already knew Kokoro’s determination wasn’t easily wavered, even for something this trivial.

Instead, Misaki indulged in the one consistent joy in her life. There were others less spoken of, but food didn’t drag her around and cause trouble. She brought a bite to her mouth, and promptly dropped it as a tin can was thrust towards her face.

“Misaki!” Kokoro chirped.

Yes, that was her name. “Hmm?”

“Can you hold this?” It was delivered as a question, but did she really have a choice?

“Yes?” The string connecting them, she noticed, remained twisted and tied into itself.

“Put it to your ear, silly! It won’t be any fun if you don't!”

“Alright, alright.” The rim of the can felt cold against her ear, and all Misaki thought about was how much she could've eaten by now. Her stomach grumbled. “Hey, you guys cleaned these, right?”

Hagumi giggled next to them and Kokoro ignored her question completely, opting to speak into her end of the phone instead. “Hello? Misaki, can you hear me? Misaaakkkiiiiiii!”

“You know—” A delicate finger pressed against her lips and a loud shushing noise followed. Misaki’s eyes widened, her heartbeat picking up at the sudden contact.

Right. The other reason she put up with this nonsense on a daily basis.

“If you wanna say something, talk into the phone! Otherwise I can't hear you.” Kokoro grinned, gazing at her expectantly.

Misaki was weak for that smile.

And so she brought the can up to her face, noting its faint, lingering fruity scent. “Helloo? Kokoro?”

Next to her, Kokoro practically vibrated with joy. “Wow Misaki, I can hear you! We should make a big one of these for the whole band. That way we can talk to each other even when we’re not around!”

“You mean… like, an actual phone?” They had those. That's… what phones were for.

“Yup! We’ll need a lot more string though. Enough to reach each other no matter where we are! We can give one to Michelle, too. I wonder if bears can use phones?” Misaki opened her mouth then closed it, unable to respond, though Kokoro seemed to find an answer on her own. “Hmm. It's Michelle we’re talking about, she can do anything!”

Misaki wanted to tell her that no amount of string in the world would make that possible, nor would Michelle be taking part, but this was Kokoro Tsurumaki. Where there’s a wallet there’s a way, at least when it came to her.

“I have an idea! Lets share secrets!” Kokoro practically shouted, her voice definitely not the right volume for what she proposed.

The stupid tin can phone didn't work with Kokoro sat literally right next to her, where she could hear her loud and clear regardless. Not that it was working to begin with. “Uhh, I don't…”

“Oh, oh! Secrets?” Hagumi chimed in, her eyes glimmering as she leaned over to join the conversation. “I wonder what kind of secrets Kokoron has. Mii-kun too!”

Kokoro nodded in agreement. “Yeah! I read something that said, hmm… three may keep a secret if two are dead? So I thought, there are three of us, right? If we tell each other our secrets, we’ll have nothing to worry about!”

Misaki nearly choked on her lunch. Where the hell did she read _that_ ? Kanon mentioned she should keep an eye on what Kokoro brings back from the library after the dark fantasy ‘Snow Black’—which was apparently more graphic than your average picture book—but Misaki clearly stated that she was _not_ going to babysit Kokoro and check every book she read. That was, of course, before she became just that.

“Kokoron! You're a genius!” Hagumi clapped. Misaki did not share her enthusiasm.

“I don't have any secrets, sorry to disappoint.” Too boring to have any, unfortunately. Not that Misaki planned to spill anything at all to her two loose-lipped friends.

“Ehhh?” Kokoro looked genuinely surprised. “But you seem so mysterious, Misaki!”

“Almost as mysterious as Michelle!” Hagumi added.

“The two of you are never around at the same time! I thought that you _must_ have some kind of big secret.”

They did. Actually, could it even be counted as a secret if everyone knew about it? “Michelle doesn't have any secrets either. Me and her, we’re both very… simple. Nothing to hide, really.”

Golden eyes glistened with something Misaki couldn't discern, and before she could figure out what exactly was going on in that girl’s mind, Kokoro scooted over till their hips touched and she felt a warm weight on her shoulder. “Nothing at all?”

One mini heart attack later Misaki instinctively shied away, mentally slapping herself for being so emotionally inept. “N-no, none at all. Sorry.”

Kokoro stared at her for a little longer than necessary, as though she were searching for something. “That’s okay, I’ll go first then!”

The moment Misaki scuttled out of the blinding Tsurumaki spotlight, she exhaled, part of her soul exiting through her breath. She lost some of it every now and then, whenever Kokoro came too close, whenever her touch lingered just a little too long. So much had changed in Misaki’s life since Hello Happy, and she struggled to keep up with it all. No complaints, of course, she’d long accepted that her new friends—no matter how strange—changed her for the better. Now, it was a matter of getting used to it all. Though some things made her heart beat faster than others.

Kokoro continued on and on, something about a box of two-hundred crayons and how she felt bad using some colors more than others. “I want them all to be happy!” She’d said, stating clearly that each and every color deserved a spot in her drawings. Misaki couldn't imagine that many colors even if she tried.

That nearly brought Hagumi to tears, who then confessed that she once snapped a crayon in half by accident, and at that point Misaki tuned them both out completely. Without Kanon around to preserve what little of her sanity remained, Misaki learned to block most of it out lest she legitimately go insane. Desperate times. She needed all the brain cells she could salvage, and getting on the Kokoro-Hagumi no brakes train was a one way trip to migraine central. She would not be boarding today, thank you very much.

For the most part Misaki treasured her little moments of peace, eating her lunch uninterrupted for as long as she could and allowing herself to recharge (God knows she’ll need the energy later). But today, she had a question on her mind. “Kokoro, Hagumi?”

“Did you think of something to share, Mii-kun?” From the looks of it, they finally got around to actually eating.

She shook her head, idly pushing around the leftover food in her bento. “Not really. It's unrelated, but what did you two put down on the career survey?”

Hagumi answered first, “I’d like to keep playing softball, it's a lot of fun! But I wouldn't mind working at the shop, too. I could do both!”

“At the same time?” Kokoro eagerly suggested, her legs swinging from the bench. “What if you serve the croquettes with a bat! It’ll be like real sports, except you can eat the ball.”

“Oh, we can give out gloves instead of napkins!”

Okay, time to reel it back in before things went off the rails, as they did. “You'd lose customers from that, if anything. People don't go to meat shops to play softball.”

“Maybe they just haven't tried?” Hagumi hummed in thought, “But you're right, I don't think my parents would like it…”

Kokoro shook her head. “But they're both things you enjoy! Wouldn't it be double the fun if you did them together?”

“I don't think it works that way, at least not with sports and customer service.” Misaki, for one, wouldn't be very happy if she walked into a meat shop and got slammed in the face by a home run croquette. “But that sounds like a solid plan, Hagumi. Just… keep them separate.”

Said girl replied with a much too ominous, “We’ll see!” before turning to the third musketeer. “Kokoron, what did you choose?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Kokoro jumped up from the bench and spun around. “To make the whole world smile!”

Of course. Misaki didn't know what she expected. A moment of silence followed as they waited for Kokoro to continue, except she didn’t. “That’s it?”

“Yup, it’ll be my full-time job!”

“But you won’t get paid.”

“I’ll be paid in smiles!”

Right, Kokoro wasn’t exactly someone who needed the money anyway. She had the financial freedom to do quite literally whatever she wanted, a fact proven many times over. “That’s…” Very Kokoro.

Seemingly satisfied by her own answer as well as Misaki’s defeat, the cheerful girl smiled as if to confirm her qualifications for her future ‘career’. “Your turn, Misaki! What do you want to do?”

That was the big question, wasn’t it. “I don’t know.”

Hagumi tilted her head. “Well, what do you want to do?”

“I don’t really know that either.” If she did, she wouldn’t be having this problem.

“You can do anything you want to do! If you believe in yourself, anything is possible.” Kokoro spoke so simply, as if Misaki were trying to decide on weekend plans and not a decision that would affect the rest of her life.

Misaki hummed in response, and eventually, Kokoro and Hagumi went back to whatever conversation they were having. Lunch would be over soon.

They made it seem so easy.

* * *

 

Spend two years in a band and you get to know its members rather well. That was why, as Misaki glanced at her phone which read 3:37pm, she could be confident she wouldn’t be late to their 3:30pm practice session. Because if she knew her friends at all, they’d be even later. Every single one of them. After two years, she learned the best way to coordinate something like this without wasting the time they paid for was to schedule their session for a time slot half an hour after whatever information she gave the others. Two years, and that tactic had yet to fail.

Hagumi arrived first, out of breath and glistening with sweat. Practice ran overtime, to be expected. They waited together for a bit until Kokoro came strolling in with no better excuse than the siren song of an ice cream truck. She claimed to have bought them all a cone; first she couldn’t carry five by herself, then they started to melt, then, well, what other choice did she have but to eat them all herself? By the time Misaki finally got her to wash her sticky ice cream hands, ten or so minutes into their studio time, the door swung open and in came the last of their disorganized band.

Upon stepping foot into the room, Kanon had already begun her apology. “I’m so sorry! I got off at the wrong stop and I, ahh…”

“How lucky I must have been, to discover a lost kitten in her darkest hour.” Kaoru mused, the both of them fresh out of a sprint.

Hagumi excitedly threw her hands up in the air, Kokoro quick to do the same, and Misaki silently thanked whoever invented the shoulder strap. “Kaoru-kun is so cool! And a hero!”

“Kaoru! Kanon! I missed you!” Kokoro hopped towards them, promptly wrapping her arms around them and pulling them in close for a big hug. Hagumi joined in, latching herself to the group despite the instrument that hung from her. “Now that almost everyone's here, practice can really begin!”

Misaki watched from the sidelines.

It felt odd to celebrate the start of every rehearsal, but with Hello Happy, getting this far each time really was a miracle. Like a broken record, the same events occurred over and over. Only nowadays, Kanon and Kaoru were busier. They weren't free as often, they showed up later, they seemed… tired. Misaki didn't blame them, after all, they had more responsibilities now. Maybe it sounded dramatic, but they lead different lives now, too. Both of them continued on to pursue a higher education, Kanon’s love for jellyfish pushing her towards marine science and Kaoru, surprisingly, chose to study psychology. Maybe it shouldn't have been so surprising to her—at the end of the day, Kaoru was someone who genuinely cared about the wellbeing of both friends and fans, and Misaki had experienced that kindness first-hand more than once. Perceptive, charming, easy to talk to when it mattered most. That last one didn't apply on a day-to-day basis, though.

After they graduated, scheduling became a nightmare. Forget the casual get togethers, Misaki had a hard enough time wrangling her friends to the studio for much needed practice. School aside, planning around Kanon’s volunteer work at the aquarium—Pen-chan left a lasting impression—and Kaoru’s theatre troupe gave her headaches unlike any she had before, and that didn't take into account the other two. Did the Tsurumaki family have enough money to make her a clone? Misaki honestly considered asking the suits if such a thing were possible.

“With our live coming up next week, I don’t think we’ll have time to finish the new song.” The looks of surprise around the room weren’t reassuring. They _did_ remember it was next week, right?

“I-it’s next week? Already?” Kanon sounded stressed.

Hagumi did not. “Yay, next week!”

“A-ahh, time is rather fleeting, is it not?” Yup. Kaoru forgot too. Also stressed.

“We can!” Kokoro shouted directly into the microphone, shattering Misaki’s eardrums. “Finish the song, that is. We have a whole week!”

“That’s… nowhere near long enough.” Maybe it used to be, during simpler times. But not now. “Even if I can arrange something before then, we won’t have enough time to get a new song down well enough to perform with it.” She felt guilty for glancing at Kaoru and Kanon. They didn’t look happy about it either, and collectively, all three of them knew it just couldn’t be done. “Plus, we’re still stumped for ideas…”

Kokoro shook her head. “We need inspiration, that’s all! We’ve done it before, we can do it again. Where shall we go this time? Oh, oh! What about the zoo? They have so many cute animals that are totally inspirational! Maybe we can visit the amusement park again, it’s been a while! We can all go together, just like last time. Maybe Mr. Owner added new attractions?”

Misaki sighed. “I’m sorry Kokoro, we’re going to have to hold off on the new song until after our next performance. There’s just… no way around it, I had a hard enough time scheduling one more rehearsal before next weekend.”

If Kokoro had more to say, she must have held back when she saw the frowns around the room. “Well… if that's the case, we’ll just have to make it an even better song for our next live! One that'll make everyone smile!”

“Isn't that what all our songs are supposed to do?” That one was supposed to be a thought, oops.

“Of course, but this one will make them smile sooooo big their cheeks ache! The best kind!” The toothy grin on her face was exaggerated and goofy, enough so to liven up the group’s mood. It was that radiance which drew Misaki in like a moth to a flame, blinded yet enamored by her light.

The others praised her genius, Kanon gave Misaki a look that said, ‘What can you do?’ and before long, Hello Happy’s usual flow returned. They ran through the setlist, bouncing ideas off of one another; some might say the same as always, with some added quirks. Misaki’s gaze fell from one friend to the next, reveling in their joy and deciding that any stress she acquired in the process was well worth the cost.

However, she couldn't help but wish it'd been easier to get them all here, to make this happen. All five of them had the same synergy, and yet, things were different somehow. Kanon and Kaoru seemed… distant. Like they'd gone off to a whole other planet while herself and the others remained on earth, forever waiting for their return and oblivious to the fact that soon, they'd embark on a journey of their own. She wondered what that other planet looked like. She wondered if perhaps her spaceship would land there, too.

With the resources they had, they could book more venues, schedule more performances, write more songs, make more memories. The only thing they couldn't get more of was time. After all, they were just a high school band. Unlike Kokoro’s limitless imagination and the Tsurumaki’s bottomless bank account, time was finite, and Misaki wondered how long they had left.

* * *

 

Four hands and one paw came together, between them a shared dream.

On the count of three, they lifted into the air.

“Happy! Lucky! Smile! Yay!”

Light blinded her when she crossed the threshold, the roar of cheers thundering loud in her ears as she took her place on stage. Her breath came out in puffs of hot air that lingered within her suit, an uncomfortable warmth she’d grown used to. Out in the darkness, the crowd held stars in their hands, yellow and pink and orange and purple and blue. She waved to them, her other paw brushing against the familiar keys of her DJ deck.

“Who’s ready to smile?!” Their own star called out, golden hair brighter than the cosmos before them.

She couldn’t see her eyes, but she knew they were shining, too.

Through Michelle’s tiny mouth she gazed upon the four people who whisked her along into their colorful world. Hello, Happy World together on stage, here, now, was familiar. That much hadn’t changed. Hidden beneath pink fur, she smiled.

Misaki turned a knob and music brought life to the venue.

* * *

 

The final chord reverberated and cheers filled the silence. Misaki’s chest heaved and she could feel her tank top sticking to her back, but for a moment, she reveled in the applause, the fruit of all her late nights spent tinkering with arrangements, all the headaches and the scheduling and the rescheduling. _This_ made it worth the while.

Once the high died down and Hello Happy waved goodbye, Michelle was immediately pulled aside and secured by the suits upon stepping off stage. They could put as many high-tech fans as humanly possible into one bear’s head, but in the end Misaki would still bake. She couldn’t thank them enough for what they did, literally lifting the weight of Michelle off her shoulders was a blessing, not to mention cleaning and repairs; they really went above and beyond for Kokoro and the band.

Speaking of. After slipping into something less… sweat-soaked, Misaki returned to find Kokoro enthusiastically speaking at (not with) two older women, their demeanor and attire reminiscent of the suits. More independence, presumably. Equally professional. Less tolerance for rich blonde girls, judging by the obvious confusion on their faces.

“And then I sing, something like this!” Kokoro hummed a tune as though she were a small child imitating a song she heard on the radio, endearing but incomprehensible. “Misaki takes notes, sometimes she records it, then–BAM!” The not-suits jumped back in surprise. “Hello, Happy World’s new song is born!”

“O-oh? I… see.” One of them nodded, just as taken aback as anyone would be speaking to Kokoro for the first time. “So this friend of yours, she… writes the songs?”

“And doesn't perform on stage.” The other added, searching for clarification.

“Yup! We come up with ideas together, but Misaki does the hard parts. She’s super talented! I tried to get her on stage with us once, but she didn't want to. We had outfits ready and everything, she would've looked so cute! Maybe if I–”  

The others were nowhere to be seen, figures. They had instruments to deal with. “H-hey! What's going on here?” Misaki tried to enter the conversation casually, though it was clear she intended to butt in with haste to avoid any further damage, if Kokoro’s nonsense had done any. That, and she couldn't bear to listen any further. Her cheeks were already burning.

“Misaki! Where have you been? Oh! Where's Michelle, is she gone already? There were so many smiles in the crowd because of her!” Kokoro counted on her fingers, but ran out rather quickly. A sad day when you realize you've only got ten.

“Uh, yeah. You know her, busy, busy…”

“Makes sense. She's so popular! I wish she'd stay for a little longer one day, I’d love to take her out somewhere.”

Yup. Take the bear out. Just the bear. Perfectly normal, perfectly sane. Was it reasonable to be jealous of herself? “Yeah. Maybe one day.” Misaki turned to address their guests. Her patience was already stretched thin, maneuvering around in a giant bear suit for an hour wasn't exactly a walk in the park. That, and she didn't like the way they looked at Kokoro with utter disregard. “Anyway, can I help you?”

The taller woman adjusted her glasses. “Yes. You're the composer, then? Miss…”

“Okusawa; Misaki is fine.” Professionalism was a bit of a pain, it always felt like walking on eggshells. She’d gotten used to being addressed by her given name anyway.

“Misaki-san.” The woman repeated definitively. “We’d like to talk to you in private, if you can spare the time.”

Begrudgingly, she nodded. “Kokoro, could you go check on the others? I’ll meet up with you in a minute.”

“Sure!” Kokoro seemed a bit curious, but took her leave nonetheless. “I’m counting though! Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven, fifty-six…” Misaki wouldn't make it back by the time she hit zero.

With Kokoro out of earshot, the woman cleared her throat. “We’ve been following Hello, Happy World, and we believe your band’s music has a lot of potential. From what your vocalist has told us, you do most of the work on that front?”

“Uhh, well… kind of?” Their process was somewhat difficult to explain and even harder to understand. “What Kokoro told you before is basically the way it is, as unorthodox as it sounds. I take her ideas and translate them, I guess. It’s a group effort.” She sure as hell couldn’t come up with all that on her own.

“Nonetheless, your work is phenomenal. To think you have the ability to build so much upon nothing but a hummed melody!”

“Peculiar…” The shorter of the two whispered to her partner who then nodded. “How long have you been arranging music, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Misaki awkwardly scratched her cheek. She wasn’t used to having so many questions directed at her, about herself and her life personally. “Maybe it’s a little strange, but only since I joined the band a couple years ago.” Since she failed to leave it, more accurately. “There was a bit of a learning curve for sure, but I managed.” Probably best to leave out the part where she spent an absurd amount of time studying copious amounts of content. God bless the kind souls who post tutorials on the internet.

“That’s it?” They seemed genuinely surprised. “In that case, you’ve got quite the natural talent. We’d like to extend you an offer on behalf of our agency—an apprenticeship, more specifically—if you’re at all interested in continuing on in this field. The music you’ve produced for your band is proof enough of your qualifications, and we’d love to have you with us.”

The reality of those words didn’t sink in at first. This offer was… for her? Were they mistaking her for someone else? “Um…” Misaki hesitated, honestly speechless and very, very unprepared for this conversation. Either way, she had a band. She didn’t need anything else, anyone else but them. After all, they were the reason she got into it at all. “I don’t think…”

“Ah! And if you’re keen on continuing stage performances, perhaps we might converse on the topic of purchasing the rights to your mascot.” At least they had common sense enough to figure out who was in Michelle.

At that, Misaki couldn't help but scoff. “I’m sorry, but that’s near impossible unless you all are sitting on a mountain of gold. At the price the Tsurumakis bought Michelle for, I don’t think it’s possible to resell her to any normal human beings.” That aside, she should probably decline before they went on any further. “Thank you for the opportunity, but I’m not interested. I’ve already got my hands full as is.”

“Are you sure? This could be a chance for you to take your first steps towards a lasting career, and believe me when I say you really do have potential.” It looked as though she had more to say, but her other half silenced her with a gentle hand placed upon her shoulder.

“We’re not here to force you into anything, all my colleague is trying to say is that you could put your skills to good use. With the right guidance, who knows where you might go.”

Misaki frowned. “I am putting them to good use.”

They both nodded. “...You’re right, forgive me. Anyway, please take this.” A business card was thrust into her hands before she could refuse. “I know it’s a lot to absorb. Our offer still stands, so give us a call if you change your mind. You’ve got something special, it might be a good idea to start thinking about your future.”

Misaki nodded, sliding the card into her pocket without a second thought. She would throw it away later.

When she caught up with the rest of the band, she was greeted with smiles all around. “She’s back!” Kokoro jumped up from where she sat. “You took more than a minute! It’s been… Hagumi, the numbers!”

“A-Ah, I lost count? Definitely over a hundred!” Hagumi stared down at her fingers as though she were trying to solve the hardest math problem in the world.

“Over a hundred!” Kokoro repeated, and Misaki held her tongue. Hadn’t she been counting down? “But it’s okay, I’m sure it was important. We had fun with numbers while you were gone, wanna hear about it?”

“Do I have a choice?” Judging by the knowing smile on Kokoro’s face, the answer was no. It was always no, not that she was arguing about it.

“I think they’re pretty neat! Right, Hagumi? You can keep counting forever and ever! It never ends, there are so many! I want to count to a million one day.”

Kanon wore a worried expression. “That would take days…”

“But look how fast we can count!” Kokoro nodded to Hagumi, the both of them taking a deep breath before releasing a barrage of numbers from one to ten, so fast the words themselves could barely be made out.

“I-Incredible!” Kaoru nearly fell over, clearly taken aback by their counting prowess.

Misaki sighed, whipping out her trusty abacus. You never know when you might need it. “It would take about eleven and a half days counting, if you go by seconds. You’d actually die so no, nobody here will be counting to a million.”

“A worthy cause, indeed. Oh, such bold ambition, the courage to face even death should it stand in your path.” With a pained gasp, Kaoru clutched her chest. “As Shakespeare once said, ‘Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth and delves the parallels in beauty's brow.’ I commend you on your perilous journey. Ah, if only I could count, I would have joined you.”

“I’m sorry, _what_?” Crap, she left her advil at home.

“Kaoru-san…” At least she had Kanon to suffer alongside her.

Kokoro held Hagumi’s hand and grasped Kaoru’s with the other. “Don’t worry, anyone can count! You just need to believe in yourself! Let’s do it together.”

Was this. Really happening. Right now, right in front of her. “H-hey guys, aren’t you all hungry? I sure am. Why don’t we go get something to eat, celebrate another show well done? There’s a family diner nearby...” Misaki laughed awkwardly, desperately glancing to Kanon for help.

“Y-yeah, I am too!” She replied hastily, fumbling to check the time on her phone. “Oh, actually. It’s getting late, I need to go… I have a class early in the morning and I…” Kanon’s gaze fell to the floor as though she felt guilty about missing dinner this time, and last time, and the time before that.

“Oh?” Kaoru leaned over to take a look at the time. “How fleeting time is… I must depart as well, my sincerest apologies. The next time we meet, we’ll count together, I swear it on my life.”

One by one they dropped like flies, and with the implication Misaki might be stuck with Kokoro and Hagumi, she thought to perhaps retract her suggestion, but it appeared she was too late. “I can go!” Kokoro now held both of Hagumi’s hands in hers, currently shaking them up and down. “You’ll come too, right Hagumi?”

“I want to, but I should probably be getting home. It’s dark, and my parents…” She didn’t need to say any more.

“That’s okay! Next time, right?” This was next time.

But it couldn’t be helped. All they could do was hope that everyone would be free during some distant ‘next time.’ “We’ll celebrate another time, don’t worry about it. I’m a little tired after that too…” Misaki trailed off.

Kokoro tilted her head. “Why would you be tired? Also, I’m still free! We can go together! You were excited to eat at that diner, weren’t you?”

“A little? I guess.”

“Then let’s do it! I’m starving and the little monster in my stomach is growling so much!”

“Okay.” Escape plan failed. The other three were a little too quick to leave, ditching her with Kokoro and a request for photos if the food was good. Being alone with that girl left her with a mix of emotions she didn’t really want to deal with tonight, but technically she did extend the invitation.

“Yay! Onward, Misaki!” Kokoro burst to life, dashing towards the exist and dragging behind her a tired Misaki.

As they walked, or in Kokoro’s case, ran like the wind, Misaki thought about the many things they didn’t get to do anymore. Hello Happy outings had been few and far between, growing more and more sparse as time went by. As stressful as they could be, she missed them. Misaki never imagined hanging out with her friends would become a luxury, the days where nobody checked the time long gone. Is that how things would be from now on?

Idly, she ran her fingers over the card in her pocket.

* * *

 

“–And Kaoru was so cool! Oh! Oh! Misaki, were you watching?”

She blamed the dinner time buzz for this. “Yup.” Misaki didn't mind waiting, especially for family diner food, but tired and hungry didn't mix well with an energetic Kokoro hyped up on post-performance excitement.

“We made so many people smile! Michelle is so talented, everyone loved her! She did this one thing, it was like,” Kokoro imitated the motion of scrubbing the turntable, followed by some poorly executed beatboxing. “I always wonder how she does it. There are so many buttons!”

“Uh huh.”

“Do you think she'll teach me?”

Misaki stiffened, a vivid memory of Kokoro messing with the dj deck surfacing in her mind. Red flags, red flags, red flags! That girl was a hazard to any type of expensive equipment. The more buttons, the further Kokoro should be kept away. “Maybe? It seems a little complicated.”

“A maybe isn’t a no! Complicated never stopped anyone. If you work hard, you can accomplish anything!” Kokoro jumped up out of her seat, and Misaki frantically gestured for her to sit back down. People were starting to stare!

“Okay, okay, I believe you! Sit down, please…”

Kokoro placed her hands on her hips and stared. “Do you really?”

“O-of course.” Misaki averted her gaze, only because Kokoro’s state became a little uncomfortable. Did that girl not need to blink? “Okay, yes! I really, really believe you, I promise. Will you sit down now?”

Finally she nodded, plopping down in her seat and burying her face in the menu. Peace and quiet lasted for approximately five entire seconds. “Look! This hamburger has a smiley face on it!”

“Isn't that the kid’s menu…?” Well, it's not like anything was stopping her. “Nevermind.”

“Even the food here smiles! What a happy place, we should come here with everyone. Look! Hagumi would love this croquette, it's got a smiley face on it too! Even the french fries are smiling!”

The waitress stopped at their table but with Kokoro commenting on every other item on the menu, Misaki politely requested a few more minutes. “Have you decided yet?”

“There’s too many, Misaki! Look at them, I can't choose just one…” She flipped the menu around for Misaki to see, and really, it was the same ketchup smile on each one of them save for the potatoes.

“But you can't eat all of them. Even if it is from the kid’s menu, that's still way too much food for one person.”

Thoughtful eyes sparkled and Misaki braced herself for whatever idea just popped into her head. “But if it were for _two_ people…”

There was no use in fighting a losing war, she knew that by now. Family restaurant food was at the top of her list so anything would do really, so long as cilantro stayed far, far away. “Fine, fine, get whatever you like and we’ll split it.”

One ecstatic nod and an order of nearly half the kid’s menu later, ketchup smiles bore into Misaki’s soul. There were so many of them. She didn't know which to look at, so she kept her eyes on the one across the table with the blonde hair. How Kokoro derived such genuine joy from something as simple as this was one of the world’s greatest mysteries. She wanted to scold her for getting way too much food (Misaki was paying for crying out loud! God save her wallet), but her words died in her throat when she saw Kokoro practically vibrating in her seat. With a sigh, she muttered, “I’m an enabler, aren't I…”

“What's that?” Kokoro chirped, fidgeting with her fork.

“Oh, nothing. I was just… trying to figure out where to start.” This many plates on one table was actually a little overwhelming.

“Me too! I don't really want to eat them now that they're smiling…”

Wasn't that the whole reason they ordered them in the first place? “But that's–” Right. Kokoro-tier reasoning was needed here. “You should eat while it's warm. They're smiling because they're happy to provide you with a good meal.”

Kokoro visibly brightened, and looking at her, Misaki might've forgotten there were other people in this restaurant. “You're right! They want me to smile too!”

“Yeah, something like that.” Smile transfer from ketchup to cute girls existed, apparently.

Both of their stomachs rumbled, the timing almost comedic, sending Kokoro into a fit of laughter. When they finally got around to eating dinner, the original purpose of their outing, the fries were cold. It didn't seem to matter much to her though, and Misaki was easy to please. All in all, their massive kid’s meal fit for a king was one of the best she'd had in a while. Family restaurant magic, she claimed.

Misaki tapped out first, leaning her body back against the hard wooden chair, tired and full. She began to space out as per the aftermath of that giant meal, her gaze plastered to Kokoro, who currently sported ketchup smears on her lip. In a perfect world, she would've leaned over and cleaned it off herself. With a napkin, of course. But bold moves didn't suit her, and Misaki had yet to comb out the mess that was her feelings. Maybe it wasn't as tangled as she believed it to be, but it was a mess nonetheless and one she elected to place on the back burner, possibly forever? No one needed to know how cute Kokoro looked, her tongue reaching for the ketchup that evaded her just barely. No one needed to know, herself included.

“Meswki,” She mumbled between bites, “whob w…”

Adorable.

“Thew wemwa… erywer?”

What?

Misaki shook herself from whatever trace she lost herself in, lightly slapping her cheeks with her hands. _Wake up!_ She scolded, ready to launch herself directly into the sun. “Sorry, what?”

Kokoro swallowed her food. At least this time her words would be coherent. “Who were those ladies after the show? They looked kinda like the suit people!”

Ah. Somehow she felt guilty about it, despite the fact that she had very clearly declined. Still, something about it put her on edge, and Misaki didn't know how to answer that question. Should she tell the truth? Probably. Would she? Maybe another time. It wasn't a conversation she felt like having right now. “No one important, don't worry about it.” Kokoro seemed doubtful even with the same smile on her face, her stare making Misaki uncomfortable and forcing her to look away. Was it that obvious she was hiding something? It's not like it was any kind of malicious secret, though. There was a time and a place and this just wasn't it. “Let’s talk about something else?”

“Will you tell me about it later? I’m curious!” It wasn't her intention to hide things from Kokoro. In fact, she was one of the few people Misaki did trust with… most things.

She nodded. “Another time.”

“Okay. I have an idea for our next performance, wanna hear about it?” Kokoro rummaged through her bag, pulled out one of her notebooks, opened it, and held it against her chest as if to hide its contents. “How do you feel about fire?”

“Fire? In what context?” Some Kokoro-aligned part of her brain knew what was coming, and it didn't make her any less afraid. With a wide grin, the notebook was flipped around and Misaki, wide eyed and confused and unsure of what exactly she was looking at, squinted as if it would make the mess of crayon take form. “Are we… o-on fire?”

“The stage is on fire!” Kokoro corrected as though it made a difference.

“I don't…”

“We’ll have fire-proof costumes! Wouldn't that be fun? We can sing and dance around the flames! It'll be so bright and warm and beautiful!” She went back to scribbling on the page, holding it up once she was done.

Another Michelle was added to the drawing, presumably down on all fours, along with some big red arrows and more flames. “What's Michelle doing? And what's that on top of her?” In most cases what she didn't know couldn't hurt her, but when it came to some of Kokoro’s more absurd stage plans, what she didn't know could actually kill her.

Kokoro hummed. “Michelle is jumping through a flaming hoop, and we’re all riding on top of her!”

Absolutely _not._ “I don't think bears can jump like that, especially not Michelle.” Moving around in that thing was hard enough! “And there's no way five people could fit through a hoop like that at the same time.”

“Not with that attitude!”

“Not with any attitude.”

“Don't be sour, Misaki! I’ll ask the suit people to help us out, it'll be totally safe!” Muttering to herself, she then added more fire over what Misaki assumed to be Kanon’s drum set.

Nope, nope, nope. The suits always found a way to make it happen, at which point her fate would be sealed. She still couldn't believe they pulled off the hot air balloon fiasco, just thinking about it made her head spin. “How about I ask them? I’ll have to find a venue big enough for something like that anyway.” That way, she could keep it from spiraling out of control. The flaming hoop definitely won't be making it into their next performance, that's for sure.

“You're so reliable!”

“Thanks…” She had to be, for her own survival.

Kokoro’s giant box of crayons took up a stupid amount of space on the table, and when she pushed the plates over to make space for it, Misaki just barely caught one of them before it slid off. She looked up and their eyes met. “Can I ask you something else?”

Her voice was softer than before, and Misaki’s heart skipped a beat. It wasn't what she anticipated, it never was and she doubted it ever would be, but still, she set herself up for disappointment. “Yes?”

“What's your favorite color?” Yup, there it was.

“I don't have one?”

“Whaaaaat? Everyone has a favorite color!” Kokoro gasped. “Wait, I get it! Me too! There are so many, it's hard to pick just one. They're all my favorite, too!”

That wasn't quite what she meant, but if it satisfied her, Misaki wasn’t complaining. She scanned over the dessert menu as Kokoro went off on a tangent about colors, showing her each and every one in the pack and assuring her that there were more than two hundred colors, don’t you know? They just haven’t made crayons of all of them yet. Can’t forget ‘fuzzy wuzzy brown’ and ‘neon carrot,’ that would definitely be a crime against humanity.

In fact, after that, she _did_ have a favorite color: ‘void of existential anguish’ black.

* * *

 

It had been a week since the performance, and Misaki couldn’t stop thinking about it. More specifically, the events that ensued afterwards. And it bothered her. At the time, she was so sure, and even now she stood by her word (but she was always one to doubt).

Because it really was a good opportunity, and she wasn’t a complete idiot. Initially she had forgotten about the business card in her hoodie that, when she got home weary and exhausted after dinner with Kokoro, promptly ended up somewhere on the floor. Out of sight, out of mind, until just the other day when the topic arose in harmless between-class chatter. Who planned to go where, how grueling entrance exams would be, where they wanted to be in five years from now. Misaki didn’t even know what she planned to do _tomorrow_ , let alone years and years in the future.

And it made her think. And thinking made her afraid. And fear led to frustration. And frustration led her back to the business card in her pocket that, if nothing else, offered the smallest, most minuscule sliver of stability. In the dense, forest-like labyrinth of life she found herself lost about, it was a break in the canopy. Whether or not she allowed the light that leaked through to help her find her way out was what she now invoked war with herself over.

Hello, Happy World was her home. It always would be. But everyone left home sooner or later, and the band as a whole slowly inched towards that point, nearing the transitional phase in each of their lives. They were a high school band—only three of them fit into that category now—who did it for fun. To make people smile. They weren’t aiming to achieve some unreachable goal and they weren’t competing to be the best. They were being themselves, doing what they wanted. And it worked out, somehow! They had fans. They had successful concerts. They supported local businesses, and they supported their friends.

But this wasn’t something they could continue professionally. Maybe Misaki had a tendency to be pessimistic at times, but realistically, the chances of succeeding were slim at best. People enjoyed their music, sure, and Hello Happy surely had its charm, but in the mountain that was the music industry, they were at the very bottom. Plus, part of their popularity came with the age appeal. No one wanted to see a group of grown women dance around to Fuwa Fuwa on stage. They could rebrand, get into more age appropriate music as they got older and maybe they'd stand a chance, but then it wouldn't be Hello Happy anymore.

It just… wouldn't work out no matter what angle she viewed it from, and it scared her. Not knowing what happens next scared her. The thought of losing what they built together, of watching helplessly as their ragtag band of mostly-morons drift apart scared her more than anything else.

Misaki was afraid of being left behind.

“–isaki. Misaki?”

She blinked once, then twice, and the world around her fell back into place. Four pairs of eyes stared at her expectantly and for a moment, she forgot where she was. “Hmm?”

“What did you think? How was it?” Kokoro seemed confused, as did the others.

Hagumi shrugged, fiddling with her guitar. “I might’ve gone a little too fast, maybe?”

“Or perhaps it was us who couldn’t keep up with you…” Kaoru concluded, “but alas it matters not how slow you go, so long as you do not stop.”

Kanon shook her head. “I don’t think that applies here Kaoru-san…”

They stood with their instruments and Misaki sat before them, her arms folded across her chest and her mind far away. Rehearsal, right. How long had she spaced out? “Sorry guys, could you run through it one more time?”

As if on cue, a knock at the door reminded them their scheduled time was up and in fact, they’d even gone overtime.

“Next time we’ll get it perfect for sure!” Hagumi cheered, and Kokoro joined in.

“I already can’t wait! Hagumi, I miss you!”

“I miss you too Kokoron!”

“We haven’t even left yet…” Kanon laughed awkwardly, her attention drawn to Misaki, who hadn’t spoken much at all. “Misaki-chan, do you want to walk home together?”

“Huh?” Her thoughts were a mess. She was a mess. “Uh yeah, sure.”

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“It has.”

The light of the evening sun glared at her from its resting place beyond the horizon, and Misaki shied away from its radiance. Sunset grasped the sky and dipped it in orange and gold and whenever she saw it, she was reminded of Hagumi and Kokoro. They, too, were blinding.

And, like the sun in her eyes, annoying. The moment she and Kanon stepped foot out of the studio Misaki promptly put her phone on silent, dreading the thousand and one notifications she’d get when they decided that five whole minutes spent apart was far too much and spammed the group chat with more emojis than the average human was capable of handling.

Kanon spoke up first. “Is something wrong? You seemed… distant today.”

“Did I?” The last thing she wanted was her friends to worry. Kanon especially; she already had so much on her plate. “I’m fine, just tired. Didn’t sleep well last night.” She laughed it off, gazing down at her phone’s screen to distract herself. Muted group chat aside, there were no new messages.

“Misaki-chan…” That was the ‘I know you’re lying but I don’t want to call you out on it’ tone.

“It's nothing, I promise.”

Kanon placed her hands on her hips and huffed. “You shouldn't make promises you can't keep.”

Misaki frowned. “Was I that obvious?”

“You spaced out for nearly half an hour… I’ve never seen you like that before, at least not since…” Kanon shook her head. “I don't know if you even realized it, but you agreed with everything Kokoro-chan said! Including s-something about fire?”

Oh crap. Auto-piloting around them was a dangerous move. “E-exactly what did I agree to now?”

“I didn't really understand, but that's besides the point.” Was it though? Misaki could've enabled disaster to ensue for all she knew. But Kokoro was her problem to deal with, not Kanon’s. “I just… don’t want to sit by and watch you bottle things up again. We’re here for you, you know? You don’t have to go through things alone. Haven’t we gotten past that?”

Yes. Kind of. Through the power of friendship and a significant amount of angst on her part, Misaki found the place where she belonged. That was exactly why she didn't want to burden them with her troubles, even though she knew they all cared. She knew they loved her, and yet she persisted on silence. Old habits die hard, she supposed.

Kanon stopped, Misaki beside her, the sun casting brilliant amber hues across the quiet side street. Long shadows ran from the light, stretching further and further away as if to escape from the golden horizon. Misaki wished she could run away, too.

But instead, Kanon’s hands on her shoulders held her in place. “That's what friends are for… right?”

They were there to keep her grounded, just as Kanon did now. Just as she would do too, should the need ever arise. They were friends. “Right.” Friends. “Yes, you're right. I’m sorry, I’m just…” Not used to it? Unprepared? Misaki was a lot of things right now, and ‘fine’ wasn't one of them.

“I know, you don't have to say it.” Kanon smiled, and she wondered what she did to deserve friends like her. “So what's on your mind, Misaki-chan?”

“Well…” With a deep breath, Misaki spilled all which she held in since that night. She told Kanon about the women who'd approached her, what they asked, what they _offered_ , how she’d never actually consider it until she did. How the four of them gave her a happiness she never asked for, and how—”I’m afraid, Kanon. I’m afraid of what comes next.” Ah, this is what she didn't want. The wobble in her voice, the pressure in her eyes that threatened tears. The knot in her stomach and the loud, anxious beating of her heart. “Everything's changing and There's,” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “There's not enough time. I don't want to graduate, I don't want Hello Happy to end.”

“There never is.” Kanon whispered, and Misaki knew she wasn't alone. “But… who said anything about endings?”

“Come on, you know better than that. You and Kaoru are already busy enough as is. If all five of us were the same, we’d never find time for each other.” That came out more hostile than intended, but it was the cold, hard truth. “Things like these don't last.”

“Isn't that all the more reason to enjoy them while they do?” Kanon looked like she was going to cry too but somehow, she kept her composure much better than Misaki, despite her efforts. “You're a useless pessimist sometimes, you know.”

When did Kanon become so mature? It made her feel like a child throwing a tantrum. “It's hard to enjoy it, knowing it won't last forever.”

“Everyone grows up at some point or another… nothing lasts forever.”

“Not with that attitude.”

Kanon giggled. “You’re starting to sound like someone else we know.”

Misaki groaned, her face in her hands. “Oh God, she's rubbing off on me.” Stealthily, she wiped the warmth that started to pool in her eyes. Not today, Satan.  

“I don't think that's a bad thing? It's kind of cute.”

“No, it's not. The more time I spend with her the less brain cells I have. And I need those!”

At some point, Kanon took Misaki’s hand in hers in a platonic gesture of support. Physical touch was foreign territory to her when she first joined Hello, Happy World, but now, it was little things like these that made her smile. The squeeze of her hand melted away her inhibitions, in its place budded warmth and security. She wondered how she lived her entire life without this.

“It's a big decision.”

“I’m not made for those.”

Kanon’s laughter rose up like bubbles around them. “I’m not either. Honestly, I’m probably the worst person for this.”

“I’m well aware.” Misaki felt more comfortable now, her initial mortification subsiding.

“But in the end, it's your decision to make. It's your future, nobody else gets to decide it but you.” Kanon smiled sheepishly. “I know that probably doesn't help much, but… I think there are some things—important things—that we can't help you decide. You should do what's best for you.”

She couldn't help but feel disappointed with that answer, even though she knew it was right. For once in her life, Misaki wanted something to be handed to her. Must she always be the one chasing after an answer? Apparently so. “What if I don't know what's best for me?”

“Finding out is part of the adventure, isn't it?”

“I don't really want to go on an adventure, I’d rather stay home.”

“Well, you won't find any answers there.” The two of them began to walk again, their hands still clasped together. “Misaki-chan, you should tell the others.”

Misaki frowned. “What? No! You know them, they'd probably freak out.”

“We’ve all been friends for how many years now? They’ll understand, just like I understand.” Kanon nodded definitively. “Let us be a part of your life, too.”

At the very least, spilling the beans would make her feel less guilty about it all. Misaki hadn’t even agreed to anything yet she still felt as though she were cheating in a marriage with four wives to disappoint. And a bear too, if that was legal. “Okay. I’ll tell them next time we get together, Kokoro’s been nagging me about it anyway.” She thought that perhaps saying it aloud would give her the confidence and resolve to see it through, but it only proved to give her demise a date and time.

“Don’t worry about it too much, have faith in them.” Misaki nodded. She never thought the day would come where Kanon told _her_ not to worry. “Besides, isn’t there something else holding you back, too?”

“Something else?”

“Someone else... ”

Misaki stiffened, reflexively pulling her hand away and not at all acting cool the way she’d intended. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Misaki-chan, you’re not very, um…”

She didn’t need Kanon to say it out loud. Maybe she stared at Kokoro sometimes, maybe she thought about holding her hand in a more intimate way, maybe she thought about—

Misaki’s cheeks burned. “It’s not like that!”

“B-But you know, I think that she–”

“Thank you Kanon! My sister’s calling, I’ve gotta go pick her up from club activities. Sorry!” Misaki blatantly lied, her voice cracking in the process.

“Wait–”

“I’ll see you later!” Before she could embarrass herself any further, Misaki bolted off.

When she looked up, she realized she had gone in the wrong direction. At least Kanon probably wouldn’t be able to tell, so that saved whatever remnants of pride she still held onto, if any. Whatever suspicions her friend had, Misaki just confirmed. Maybe there were unspoken feelings, but she herself had a difficult time sifting through them. She didn’t want to admit it was a crush, especially on _her_. But she had enough to think about without her heart betraying her.

More importantly, she probably shouldn’t have left Kanon, who still couldn’t find her way home from time to time. Listening to her better conscience, she fished her phone out of her pocket, smiling at the emotes that popped up next to her friends’ names. Kokoro had gotten hold of her phone once ( _once_ ), and after cleaning up the mess that was her contacts, she decided to keep the little icons. Kokoro insisted it was a jellyfish, regardless of how many times Misaki objected. The memory made her chest feel warm.

Shaking the intrusive thoughts from her mind, she began to type.

 **To: Kanon Matsubara 🎐  
** **From: Misaki Okusawa 🐻  
**sorry for ditching you. call me if you get lost. and kanon?

 **To: Kanon Matsubara 🎐  
** **From: Misaki Okusawa 🐻  
**thank you.

* * *

 

“All ideas are good ideas!” Kokoro exclaimed, pointing finger guns at her partner in crime. “Hagumi, go!”

“Okay!” Together, the two ran circles around the excessively large room, feet pattering against marble flooring. “Where are we going?”

“Anywhere! Running helps the ideas flow.”

“What about to the other side of the room?”

“Sure! I love that side.”

“Me too!”

“Such a vibrant glow, my kittens… your energy is like… the sun!” Kaoru clutched her chest. “Solar power…”

“Solar power? What's that?” Hagumi jogged in place, pumping her arms.

“I know her!” Kokoro grinned and pointed upwards. “She lives on our roof and powers the house. My parents talk about her sometimes.”

“Oh! Thank you Ms. Solar!”

“Kaoru, wanna run with us? We’re going to that side of the room!” Both of them pointed at their destination as though it were the silhouette of a far off island after weeks at sea and not literally in the same room as them. Actually, in Kokoro’s house, maybe the former description was more accurate.

Kaoru shook her head. “Tempted as I may be, theatre rehearsal awaits me after our fated meeting, and I mustn't soil myself before then.”

Did she have to say it like that? Did she even know what she just implied? Lucky for Kaoru, nobody else noticed. Kanon sat next to her, knee deep in her studies.

Misaki hadn't said much since they arrived at the mansion, everyone but herself eager to brainstorm ideas for their next song. While they came up with ways to start a song, she came up with ways to start an unwanted conversation. However, she had little to contribute to either cause. Surrounded by disarray, Kokoro and Hagumi running back and forth, Kaoru going over her lines, Kanon lost in the depths of academia, Misaki decided now was a better time than any to rip the band-aid off. It's not like they were brainstorming anyway.

“Hey, guys?” Misaki spoke up, anxiety pooling in her gut when they all stopped to look at her. “There's something I want to tell you all.”

“Oh? Did you think of something?” The two sweaty dorks rushed over and slid on the floor, laughing as they spun around.

“Not exactly.” In a mild panic, she looked to Kanon who smiled and nodded. “Remember those women from after our performance?” Kokoro nodded, as did the others, and Misaki assumed she must have told them about it at some point. “Well, they…” She gulped. “They offered Michelle an opportunity to go professional.”

Gasps all around, save for Kanon who nervously fidgeted her fingers. “Just Michelle?” Asked Hagumi.

“They offered it to me as well. I would be writing her music, or something like that…” Misaki couldn't bear to look them in the eye. “We haven't made a decision or anything, but we wanted to tell you guys. Because for us, Hello, Happy World comes first.”

“That's…” Kokoro began, and Misaki braced herself. “Wonderful!”

Everyone turned to look at her, equally confused. Misaki more so than the others. “Um… is it?”

“Of course!” She insisted. “Imagine how many smiles Michelle could make! As expected of her, she’s amazing! It's no wonder they'd want her.”

Hagumi nodded in agreement, an, like the plague, Kokoro’s smile spread around the room. “Michelle would do great, wouldn't she? You too, Mii-kun!”

“Uh…” Misaki didn't expect this reaction from them. In retrospect, it was exactly as Kanon said: they supported her.

“Dearest Misaki, your music will warm the hearts of all who listen.” Kaoru blew her a kiss. “‘We know what we are, but know not what we may be.’”

“D-don't you guys get it? Michelle would have to leave the band.” Did she have to spell it out for them?

It was Kokoro’s support that bothered her the most. “If that’s what she wants to do, then who are we to stop her? She’s our friend, after all!”

Hagumi nodded. “It sounds like fun, too.”

“Plus, it won't be until after graduation anyway, right?”

“R-right.” Actually, Misaki had no idea. She hadn't bothered contacting the number on the card—she expected more resistance from her friends. Were they really okay with this?

“As a great poet once said, ‘Leaving home involves a second birth in which we give birth to ourselves.’” Kaoru placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Go forth and give birth to yourself, Misaki!”

“What… does that even mean?” There was a lot for her to take in, and Kaoru left her head throbbing. As usual, no explanation.

After an array of worried looks and nervous smiles, Kanon finally spoke up. “What we’re all trying to say is that we’ll support you no matter what you choose. If you—a-and Michelle—want to go pro, we’ll all be cheering for you!” The rest of them nodded, smiles all around. “And if you decide you don't, or you do go and things don't work out… then we’ll always be here to welcome you home.”

But they wouldn't always be here, at least not as Hello, Happy World. Wasn't that the point? This was too much.

Misaki thought they'd agree that indeed, it was a silly idea. But instead, they opened a gateway she didn't intend to enter. They packed her a bag and wished her good luck on her journey. She… didn't know what to say. “I… should go. Michelle and I have a lot to talk about.” With that, she hastily shoved her belongings into her non-metaphorical bag and rushed out of the room, ignoring the looks on their faces.

As she wove her way through the mansion and out the door, the suits were nowhere to be seen.

* * *

 

After she ran, it was never mentioned again. Things went back to normal, they all acted as though nothing happened, and Misaki still hadn't come to a decision. Obviously, the best way to deal with your problems was to ignore them completely. Maybe she was avoiding it, but in her defense they had a song to work on, one that demanded her undivided attention. After all, it could be their last.

They took it well, and that should be a good thing. She shouldn't be upset the way she was. In fact, Misaki herself didn't know what it was she wanted from them. To stop her? To tell her to stay? That was selfish and irrational. But maybe, just this once, she wished she could be.

Misaki needed an excuse to say no. She had used the word so many times one would think it came naturally at this point, but it seemed that only applied to eccentric blondes who asked for concerts on the moon. When applied outside of that very specific niche, her decision-making skills were practically useless. Whichever path she chose, there was no turning back, and that terrified her.

Five minutes to the start of class and Kokoro was nowhere to be seen. That had been going on for some time now, too. Misaki didn't know what the hell was up with her, if anything was up at all. She was still her bubbly, energetic self, still hopping around like a rabbit on steroids, but there were things that seemed off. Small things that made her wonder if she were only imagining it.

Most notably, they hadn’t been alone since the family diner. There was always someone else accompanying them no matter where it was they went. Popping Party at lunch—a welcomed addition, Kasumi’s presence worked wonders in entertaining Kokoro and Hagumi by extension—Eve dropped by every now and then too, and it seemed as though Hagumi stuck to them more than she usually did. These were all things Misaki didn’t mind, it wasn’t as if she wanted the girl all to herself, but the order of events made her suspicious.

Kokoro stopped passing her notes. Her collection of Kokoro doodles, notes, and other Tsurumaki curios hit a wall, its last addition procured weeks ago. Skeptical, she tried to initiate something herself in a rare but desperate attempt to come to some kind of conclusion. Misaki invited her to walk home, as they did nearly every day, and the excuses began to pile up. Promised Hagumi she would cheer her on at practice. Told Kasumi they'd hang out together. Misaki suggested they stop by a cafe after school. Had to go straight home that day. Misaki said they should go visit Kaoru at the theatre. Kokoro claimed to be busy with the astronomy club.

She was still its only member.

Evidence suggested Kokoro was purposely avoiding her, and Misaki tended to overthink things every now and then, especially when it involved a certain someone. For all she knew, maybe her friend really _was_ busy, despite it all. The astronomy club excuse still set off red flags, though. But what reason did she have to be so evasive? Was she upset about what happened at the band meeting? No, if Kokoro had a problem with it, she would've said so right then and there. That girl had no self control, and she knew it herself. She was someone who reached for what she wanted when she wanted it, and somehow, she always prevailed.

Two years, and Kokoro Tsurumaki remained an enigma. Whenever Misaki thought she understood her, Kokoro proved her wrong yet again.

The suits disappeared with her. They were like ghosts, gone without a trace, leaving Misaki to wonder if they lurked nearby, watching her with eyes she couldn't see. Michelle was randomly hung up in her room one afternoon, and she tried not to think about how the suits got in. Normally they knocked, but for whatever reason, they took to the shadows. Without prior knowledge, it might have been a promising premise for a horror movie.

“Okusawa-san?” Her classmate stood in front of her desk, and Misaki wondered when exactly everyone else left. “Are you alright? Class is over…”

“Oh, sorry, I was just, well…” Spacing out. Again. Moca had nothing on her this past week.

The girl shook her head. “Ah, it's okay. I just wanted to ask if you could shut the windows on your way out.”

“Yeah, no problem.” The girl thanked her and left. Misaki groaned, dropped her face into her hands, and wondered where her life went wrong. What was going _on_ with her lately? Maybe the lack of sleep was getting to her. Or at long last Hello Happy ate her one remaining brain cell alive.

A flash of yellow outside the door made her stand abruptly, her knee colliding with the desk with a loud _thud._ Big, curious golden eyes peeked in, and upon seeing Misaki, they fled just as quickly. “Wait!” She shouted, shoveling her belongings into her bag and rushing out the door. “Kokoro–”

“What's up, Misaki!” She was met with a toothy grin and fast words spoken as if she were in a hurry. “That was really loud. Is your knee okay? Is the desk okay?”

One of those things survived the impact, and it wasn't her knee, thanks for asking. “Yes. Yeah, it's no big deal. Where are you off to? If you're free, I was thinking maybe we could–”

“Sorry Misaki, I can't today. Maybe next time?”

They were back again, those words. _Next time_.

“I gotta go, I’ll see you later! Remember to smile, OK? I’ll know if you don’t!” Kokoro cartwheeled off into the distance, and before Misaki could even finish her sentence, she was gone.

Again.

* * *

 

In between her fingers Misaki held one of many possible futures. Darkness stole words from paper and she stared blankly at the card’s silhouette. One of the few probable futures. She wondered how it was that a single piece of recycled cardboard smaller than her hand could possibly turn her life upside-down the way it did. At least her perpetrator was environmentally friendly.

People like Yukina got offers like this all the time, didn't they? How did she deal with it? How could she know that for sure, she made the right choice? Misaki groaned, then tossed the card into the void that was her floor. One of the perks of her band was that Kokoro made all the difficult decisions for her. All she did was bring the seeds of Kokoro’s endless imagination and colorful images to fruition; she planned and scheduled based on what others wanted, never for herself. Some might call her passive, but Misaki didn't mind going with the flow one bit. If it made them happy, it made her happy by extension—she was exceedingly simple in that regard.

And the composing… Misaki wasn't lying when she said it was a group effort. She took their ideas and wove them together, many strings into one thread bursting with color, an ode to the unique idiosyncrasies of Hello, Happy World. Without them to inspire her, the music she created would be bland at best. She took their happiness, their quirks and their colorful minds, and she immortalized them in ink. Music is a form of storytelling, and without her friends, Misaki had nothing to tell.

Without Hello Happy, she was just a normal high school girl. That was what she wanted, once upon a time.

Now, the thought had never been more unappealing.

Misaki had been given a dream to wrap around herself—one that gave her warmth, comfort, and a smile—and now, that blanket of safety was being ripped from her, exposing her to the chill of reality. To think she could stray so far from the path she set herself on. All because of one loud-mouthed girl with no filter, pockets full of cash, and enough ambition to carry the world on her shoulders. And somehow, she managed to hold it up.

She owed it all to the girl with sunshine in her smile.

_Isn't there something else holding you back?_

Misaki rolled over and dropped her face into her pillow, her voice but a mumble through its fluff. “I’m so fucked.”

With a sigh so deep she hoped the rest of her soul went with it (at this point, the less of it she had the better), Misaki rummaged around in the dark for her phone. After facing temporary blindness from the screen’s light, she opened up her messages.

 **To: Kanon Matsubara 🎐  
** **From: Misaki Okusawa 🐻  
**hey, u still up?

Misaki had almost fallen asleep when her phone buzzed, illuminating her room. She squinted to read the message.

 **To: Misaki Okusawa 🐻  
** **From: Kanon Matsubara 🎐  
**barely（´-`）.｡oO whats up misaki!

 **To: Kanon Matsubara 🎐  
** **From: Misaki Okusawa 🐻  
**sorry, did i wake you? 

 **To: Misaki Okusawa 🐻  
** **From: Kanon Matsubara 🎐  
**no no, it's fine d(⌒ー⌒) what are you up to at this time of night?

 **To: Kanon Matsubara 🎐  
** **From: Misaki Okusawa 🐻  
**I should be the one asking that question. I just… couldnt fall asleep. I guess ive got a lot on my mind.

 **To: Misaki Okusawa 🐻  
** **From: Kanon Matsubara 🎐  
**Maybe start with one thing?

 **To: Kanon Matsubara 🎐  
** **From: Misaki Okusawa 🐻  
**Kokoro.

 **To: Misaki Okusawa 🐻  
** **From: Kanon Matsubara 🎐  
**What about her 

 **To: Kanon Matsubara 🎐  
** **From: Misaki Okusawa  
**I think you know what. Its complicated though… are you free rn? Might be easier to talk.

There were things Misaki was reluctant to say out loud, but staring at the screen even on the lowest brightness setting began to hurt her eyes. A moment later, her phone vibrated. “Hello?” She greeted, sleepiness evident in her tone.

Kanon’s voice came out the other end, equally exhausted. “Good… night? Morning?” Soft and tired laughter echoed through the phone. “Anyway, what’s on your mind, Misaki-chan?”

Too much. Her brain capacity didn’t support this much emotional turmoil on any given day. “I think Kokoro is… avoiding me. And I don’t know why? I might be overreacting too. I can’t tell. She seems distant, somehow.”

“Towards you, of all people?”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Well…” Kanon wavered, as though she were being careful of her words. “You two seem so close, that's all. A-are you sure she's avoiding you? Kokoro doesn't really seem like the type…”

Misaki nodded. “Trust me I know, I've gone through it a thousand times. It's just weird. She's been weird.” She knew Kokoro, or at least she liked to pretend she did, and this wasn't like her. “Do you think she's upset? About, you know…”

“Kokoro? Upset? I think you'd know before the rest of us did.” Again, what did _that_ mean. “If she had something to say, she would've said it. She's not one to hold things back, right?”

“Right.” That’s what confused her. Kokoro had always been so straightforward, her heart worn on her sleeve, an open book. Never once did Misaki think her to be so evasive. She was probably just projecting her fear of rejection onto someone who really was just too busy to hang out. “Maybe I _am_ imagining things.”

“I’m sorry Misaki, I wish I could help more. I can't say I understand her any more than you do. Of the five of us, you know her best…”

And even so, she remained lost. “Hey, Kanon.” She had been thinking. Really thinking. “You know how I… feel about her, right.” Misaki’s voice trailed off, her face hot and the edge of her blanket squeezed tight in her hand.

This was so awkward. Awkward for Misaki, awkward for Kanon, awkward for everyone. How did people bring this sort of thing up in any conversation ever? “Yes, w-we all do by now.” Reassuring.

Kanon’s nervousness spread like the plague, and Misaki stuttered in tandem. “D-do you think I should, uh…” God, this was painful. “You know what, nevermind, forget I said anything. I’ve kept you up long enough, haven't I?” She laughed an incredibly fake laugh, one they both knew as such, then internally slapped herself for being a big gay mess. Can't even talk to her friends, how the hell could she even _consider_ talking to her crush? Acknowledging it as a crush felt strange in itself. It was Kokoro. Just Kokoro…

“Misaki…” The softness in her knowing voice, in that one word, once again made Misaki feel like a stubborn child. “If not now, then when?”

“Good night, Kanon.”

“Good night…”

_Click._

Tossing her phone aside, Misaki rolled over and groaned into her pillow, breath leaving her lungs as she lie there like a deflated balloon.

_If not now, then when?_

Never, preferably.

Graduation was around the corner. Every day she spent panicking, _pining_ , was one day closer to the end. That's the way it worked, wasn't it? High school ends, your friends drop off the face of the earth, and you begin your descent into the hell that is adult life. Time was running out, and Misaki ran after time. Should she choose bravery, the sting of rejection would leave a lasting mark. Should she choose cowardice, she would watch as Kokoro grew further and further away from her and what, married into another rich family? That's what they did, right. The princess marries a prince, the rich get richer. And in the end, Kokoro would sit around the dinner table with her husband and their seven children and tell them of the band she created back in high school, far away faces and forgotten names.

Maybe that was a stretch, but four in the morning thoughts did wonders for exactly no one. It did, however, bring her to some semblance of a conclusion: she would tell Kokoro Tsurumaki how she felt about her.

And, if she were to fail and embarrass herself beyond recovery, she had options.

* * *

 

Misaki Okusawa ignored the rational voice in her head, set aside the anxiety that steered her off course, and, as the melodious chime signaled the daily exodus of tired students, she followed after blonde hair and pretty eyes, a beacon amongst the mundane (she was one of them). If Kokoro wouldn’t wait for her, Misaki would run after her until she caught up—figuratively and literally, because how was it possible for someone to get around so quickly? It was like she and Hagumi both descended from the same hyper rabbit. By the time she cut Kokoro off, throwing herself between the lockers and the only exit (that was, assuming she didn’t hop out a window), Misaki forced herself to breathe normally as though she didn’t sprint to meet her, a droplet of sweat running down her temple. Whether it be from physical or emotional exhaustion, she couldn’t tell.

“Kokoro,” She breathed, deja vu hitting her hard for the upteenth time this month. It was as though she were stuck in a loop, a maze with a thousand twists and no exit. But this time, she would escape. “Do you want to go somewhere together? A cafe, the park maybe, wherever you feel like…”

For a moment Kokoro looked surprised, as though she didn’t expect Misaki to catch up to her. Then came the obviously and painfully fake, toothy smile, one that screamed rejection. “I have somewhere else I have to go today, sorry Misaki!”

“Then let me come with you. We’re both going in the same direction anyway, right? Let’s go together.” Kokoro opened her mouth, and Misaki pushed on, continuing before she could interject. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Hmmmm,” She feigned thought, but Misaki could tell when nothing went on up there. All of Hello Happy shared one brain cell after all, and right now, it was currently in use. “Can’t it wait? Walking home together is double the fun! But I’m busy today. What about next–”

“No!” No more ‘next times,’ no more ‘laters,’ this was happening today. In fact, if Kokoro wouldn’t come with her, it was happening _now_. With a deep breath and zero reflection on her actions, Misaki reached out, held Kokoro by the wrist, and looked her in the eyes. She was long past caring. “I like you. I-I really like you, Kokoro…”

The risk she took was calculated.

But boy, was she bad at math.

“I like you too, Misaki!” The response came out too quick. Kokoro grinned, Misaki frowned. She couldn’t read her, she couldn’t tell what was behind that smile. Not this time.  

She waited and waited and soon decided this might possibly be the most awkward moment of her life. “Is… that it?”

“Should there be more?” Kokoro tilted her head. “Of course I like you! I like Hagumi, I like Kanon, I like Kaoru, I like Michelle…” The list went on and on: Kasumi, Arisa, Eve, Hina, Tomoe, Ako, and then she ran out of fingers to count on.

And, with each friend she named, Misaki’s heart sunk a little deeper.

“N-no, that’s not…” Way to go, champ. Way to drop the ball. This is why Hagumi was the sporty one, not her; the only thing she could catch was feelings. “You know what, forget it.”

Kokoro jogged in place, her bag flopping against her side with each step. “Smile, Misaki! Smile!” She reached forward and poked Misaki’s cheek.

She would have groaned, if not for the realization that this was the first contact they’d had in weeks. That, of course, only proved to make it more awkward. _Smooth._ Pro tips to letting a cute girl touch your face: stand there like a moron, no reaction whatsoever, and stare. It’s no wonder she was still single. Kokoro pulled back, hopping off into the streets with a loud, “See you later!”

“Yeah. See you… later…”

Misaki punched the locker, thankful most students had gone home by now and little were around to witness her frustrated state. Mortification hit her like a truck without breaks, and needless to say, she went flying. She should have known to choose her words more carefully, she should have practiced—as dumb as that idea sounded before, she felt even dumber now—and worst of all, she shouldn’t have chickened out. ‘I like you?’ What did she expect Kokoro to say? ‘Love’ is what she planned on, but it seemed as though plans never worked out. Not for rehearsals, not for concerts, not for confessions. The word felt much too heavy on her tongue.

Well, at least she could say she tried, right? She tried, and she failed.

Running from her problems was what she did best. Misaki reached for her phone and dialed the number that had, surprisingly, temporarily dethroned Kokoro as the bane of her existence. “Hello? This is Okusawa. Sorry, yes… Michelle.”

* * *

 

Her phone’s alarm went off at exactly too-early-o’clock, waking her with the screams of the damned or, more accurately, the default alarm sound that left her craving rest in the early mornings more times than she bothered counting. The one true evil in this world. Sun in her face, sleep heavy on her eyelids, mildly questioning her existence; a typical Saturday morning. The only thing missing were the usual three hundred messages that sent her phone spiraling down to hell with Kokoro and Hagumi’s emoji pain train that left the station at dawn. Normally, she awoke to fifty percent battery life and a whole lot of nonsense. Misaki glanced at her phone. Ninety-six percent.

Fifteen minutes of staring at the ceiling and a significant amount of self-convincing later, Misaki stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, finger brushing over the bags beneath her eyes. ‘Professional’ wasn't the easiest look for her to pull off, nor was she able to work magic with makeup and a brush, but she would do her best. Presentable, that's all she needed to be.

No volume of concealer caked beneath her eyes could cover up those monstrosities (they'd gotten worse as of late).

Misaki stepped out the door in a navy blue cardigan, denim jeans, and the nicest blouse she owned. When you spend most of your time sweating in a bear, your wardrobe isn't exactly made for formal events. She preferred to sacrifice style for comfort, and most of the time that meant basic tanks and shirts and sweaters and anything else you’d find on sale; clothes were arbitrary and uniforms convenient.

On her usual route, she walked towards a new destination with considerable hesitance. She had left home early, her pace slow, as though she expected to run into someone. Anyone.

“Misaki!”

At the call of her name her face lit up and she turned around quicker than she had the energy for on any given day.

She prayed for gold, but instead she received silver. However, her neighbor smiled with a similar charm, waving Misaki over with elderly charisma and a cane, groceries in her free hand. “You look lovely today. Going to see someone special?”

“No, no, nothing like that.” Her, on a date? Imagine.

The woman chuckled. “Don’t be so modest! Look at you, all grown up. I’m sure you’ve got to fight to keep them all away.” On the contrary; she would have to wrestle her date to get her to stay.

Misaki saw a cheek pinch in her near future, and quickly intervened, “Need help with those bags? I’m in no rush, I don’t mind.”

“Thank you dear, but I’ll be fine. Don’t want to keep them waiting!” It seemed the cheek pinch was inevitable, and Misaki forced a smile and waved goodbye as her neighbor wobbled off in the direction she came.

Right. Don’t want to keep them waiting. Misaki checked the time on her phone, still early. She really could have slept an extra half hour…

On the way to the station, she glanced at every bush, around every corner. At times like this, they were always around. Hiding somewhere, watching. “I know you guys are there, you can come out now!” Misaki directed at no one in particular, as would a perfectly sane and normal human being do.

No response aside from a stare or two from passersby. Kokoro’s happiness was their responsibility, was it not? “I’m leaving! I’m really going!” So, wasn't stopping her part of that job description? “Last chance…”

The one and only time she’d ever wanted them there, the suits were nowhere to be found.

The more she willed time to slow, the quicker it passed by. People briskly wove through the station just as they did every day, though be it by luck or misfortune, she arrived at the optimal time between rushes. It was as if the stars had aligned for her: clear weather, empty stations, a perfect day. Only, she dragged rain clouds in her wake.

Her station rung on the intercom and in the blink of an eye, Misaki’s journey came to a close and the knot in her stomach tightened. Her friends wanted her to succeed. They were supporting her in this. So why did she feel so culpable for her actions? Like a thief stealing her own future. By the time she stood in front of a gray building among gray buildings, it was too late.

Interior matched exterior, an average sized company in an average sized building that Misaki assumed to be furnished just as any building around them would be. Bland and boring, something she might've appreciated before she met four colorful idiots. A sort of muted professionalism, standard and unexciting. She recognized their name from the many nights spent studying production, though she imagined the birthplace of their lively music to be a bit more… well, lively. She supposed she didn't have much to compare it to, however.

“Okusawa-san?” Came a familiar voice, white-collar and clean cut. “Right this way.”

Misaki murmured a quiet thanks and followed her up the elevator and into an office, where the other woman sat in wait. She declined their offer of refreshments, preferring to get it over with and go home. She had ripped off far too many band aids as of late, and to some extent, she grew used to it. That, or she became tired of the frustration that came with beating around the bush.

“As mentioned before, you'll start off in an internship position, paid full-time. You will work primarily with the senior composers in writing and arranging as part of the team—we’re all fans of your work done for Hello, Happy World, and we do think you'll fit in quite well here.” If the recurring monochrome decor and stiff shoulders were a sign of anything, Misaki highly doubted that. She could get along with anyone, but enjoying herself was another matter entirely.

The woman continued, “And there is, of course, the possibility of a career should you excel in the position.”

_Bzz, bzz._

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Misaki declined. “Last time, you, err. Mentioned Michelle?”

“Yes. Our team has a few ideas to pitch a children’s show featuring Michelle, if you have any interest in such. With her popularity, funding shouldn't be a problem.”

_Bzz, bzz._

Declined.

“Isn't there a bigger problem with that, though? I don't own Michelle.” That was a strange sentence to say. Michelle was an extension of her, so to speak, but she didn't really… own her? Fursuit legalities.

“We’ve been in contact with the Tsurumaki representatives.”

Great, so the suits were coercing with the enemy. Not that it mattered though, they wouldn't dare—

“They are willing to turn the rights to Michelle over to us, should you accept the terms and conditions.”

“What?” Misaki hadn't meant to voice her surprise. Were they lying to her? The Tsurumakis bought Michelle for an obscene amount of money, the suits had done countless upgrades on it, and Kokoro was basically in love with that bear (too bad that didn't extend to the person inside). They were willing to just… give it away? Why? “I–”

_Bzz, bzz._

_Bzz, bzz_.

Misaki didn't know what to say. She didn't expect that, not in the slightest, and slowly but surely she backed into a metaphorical corner.

 _Bzz, bzz, bzz_.

Her phone wouldn't stop no matter how many times she declined. Her head spun. Her heart raced. Why would they give Michelle away?

 _Bzz, bzz, bzz_.

“I’m sorry, I need to take this.” Misaki hastily excused herself from the room in a mild emotional panic.

Thirty-seven missed calls. Kanon, Kanon, Kaoru, Hagumi, Kaoru, Kanon. Again and again and again. What in the world could possibly be so urgent as to—

Another call from Kaoru. Misaki swiped right. “Hello?”

“Misaki?” Genuine awe. Call someone forty times and they’ve got to answer at least once, right? “Oh Misaki, my dearest elusive kitten, is that you?”

“Who else would it be... “

“I knew you would answer our desperate calls. Our willingness to wait reveals the true value we place on what we’re waiting for. Pray tell, Misaki, where art thou?”

“I’m, um,”

In the background, she could hear a distressed Kanon. “Did she answer?”

“Indeed,” Kaoru answered, “I await her location. Did you know, Kanon? There’s no greater agony in life than–”

“Kaoru!”

“Worry not, our thoughts and prayers have brought Misaki to us. I called out for her with my heart, my soul, and it touched hers...”

“Please give me the phone!”

Misaki grimaced and moved the phone away from her ear as a mess of noises flooded through the line. Presumably, Kanon emerged victorious. “M-Misaki-chan? Hello, are you still there?”

“Yes. What’s going on?”

“It’s Kokoro, s-she’s…”

Hagumi-esque shouting threatened to deafen her, ambulance sirens followed soon after, and Misaki was about to find out how many panic attacks one human could have in the span of two seconds. “Kanon, what happened?”

“Kano-chan-senpai, they want to talk to you!”

“I’m sorry Misaki, I need to go!”

“K-Kanon, wait, what happened to Kokoro?” Misaki’s raised voice echoed in the empty hall.

“She–” Sirens drowned her out, louder and louder and louder until the line cut abruptly.

To say she was freaking out would be a colossal understatement. Misaki left for a day. Not even that! Were they actual children? Turn your back and suddenly the ambulance is there and the girl you like may or may not be in mortal danger. Great, just. Real great.

Misaki’s guide to staying calm under extenuating circumstances: pace back and forth, call your friends multiple times to which none pick up, send one or ten text messages, all whilst your gut twists and your heart races. Not a very helpful guide, to say the least.

Her phone buzzed a few moments later with a message from the Gods themselves.

 **To: Misaki Okusawa 🐻  
** **From: Kanon Matsubara 🎐  
**sry for hanging up on u. they said she’ll be alright!! on the way to hospital with the others now (~_~;)

 **To: Kanon Matsubara 🎐  
** **From: Misaki Okusawa 🐻  
**which one?

 **To: Misaki Okusawa 🐻  
** **From: Kanon Matsubara 🎐  
**Near hanasakigawa

 **To: Kanon Matsubara 🎐  
** **From: Misaki Okusawa 🐻  
**omw

By the time her message sent, Misaki had already power walked halfway across the hall. Even the sound of her footsteps didn't belong here, where grayscale blazers and the clack of heels on marble painted an environment more professional than she honestly cared to be a part of. Maybe Hello Happy, Kaoru aside, was a bit of a fashion disaster, Kokoro’s tastes a horrendous clash of colors that made them look like they'd come straight out of a dollar store supplied by the circus, but it had character. It had life.

They did incredible work here, Misaki didn't doubt that, but she had a different style now. One she didn't expect to have literally ever, but one she could not imagine living without. She had friends who needed her now, way more than this place ever would.

The women gave her equally odd looks when she swung the door open, significantly more of a mess than when she’d left. “Thank you for the opportunity. I appreciate it, I really do. But,” she smiled. “I have a full time job already.”

* * *

 

Misaki made it there in record time, the taxi ride a small price to quell the ache in her gut. Glass doors slid open and Misaki stumbled inside, drawn to her group of friends who sat alone in the waiting room, not a single smile between them. The last time they were here, the five of them sang for a single girl’s smile. She knew it shouldn't have been, but the hospital seemed like a much more hopeful place at the time, whereas now the dull lighting and bare walls instilled a cold and clinical feeling within her.

“G-guys?” She rushed over to them, her legs weak and her voice shaking. “What happened? Where is she? Is she alright? What–”

“Mii-kun!” Hagumi jumped up from her seat, rushed over, and wrapped her arms around her. She said nothing more, burying her face in Misaki’s chest and holding her tight.

“Fear not, for the angels have spoken of Kokoro’s speedy recovery. As Shakespeare once said, ‘Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste death but once.’”

Before Misaki could even begin to comprehend, Kanon rushed to her rescue. “So what happened was, um, you see…” Sheepish, she fiddled with her fingers. “Kokoro… she, erm, tripped down the stairs and scraped her knee… it was bleeding a lot and we didn’t know what to do and well, maybe we all freaked out a little too much.”

“It was so scary…” Hagumi muttered into her, voice muffled.

Kaoru’s gaze fell to the floor. “We were truly at a loss.”

Disbelief. “I’m sorry, _what_ .” Misaki had four consecutive heart attacks for a scraped knee? They were here, at the damn hospital, for a _strawberry_?

“I-I thought she would bleed out, o-or something and we tried to call you but you wouldn’t answer and we didn’t know what else to do so we called the ambulance… I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Misaki sighed in defeat, patting the orange hair that tickled her chin. “No, it’s okay. I would’ve wanted to know anyway, I would’ve wanted to be here.” But really, they made it sound like life or death over the phone.

“Misaaaakkkiiiiiii!” Came her name, very much already worn out, loud and echoing through the static white hall.

Kokoro’s smile lit up the room, spreading to the faces of everyone but the nurse guiding her, who looked as though she needed a couple dozen shots to get through the rest of the day. Misaki knew that feeling, she could drink to that. But, as Kokoro hobbled over, her eyes were drawn to something else. A big, bulky, Michelle-pink cast covered almost the whole of her leg. Hagumi, practically in tears, removed herself from Misaki and waved and jumped and cheered for her friend’s return from… what was supposedly a scraped knee.

Glancing between them, the nurse signed and instructed in an exhaustedly monotonous voice, “Make sure she gets rest. Give it a week, and she’ll be fully recovered. You, you're ‘Misaki?’” Said girl nodded dumbly, to which the nurse placed a card with appointment details in her hand. “This is her follow up next week, please get her here on time.” With that she left, and Misaki wondered why exactly _she_ was the one left with that responsibility.

The others had already begun fawning over Kokoro. “Kokoron, Kokoron! Let me sign your cast! I can draw some fun stuff on it for you!”

“Oh, that sounds great!” Kokoro barely sounded phased by her trip to the emergency room. “Everyone should draw on it! Anything that makes them happy, anything that makes them smile! With that on my cast, I’ll recover super duper fast!”

“So, why do you have a cast?” Misaki hated being the fun police, but she worried. “I thought you only scraped your knee.”

“I did! The doctor wanted my name and when I told her, she asked what color cast I wanted! Guess what I chose?” Spoken as though the answer wasn't literally right in front of her.

“Pink.”

“Yup! Michelle-pink! I wonder if she’ll sign it too… but yeah! I wonder why, maybe they remember us? They could be fans of Hello, Happy World!” She exclaimed, lifting both hands in the air and nearly falling over.

“Be careful! Ugh.” Misaki wouldn't burst her bubble, but man, the Tsurumaki name really got around, didn't it? Imagine being from a family so rich and intimidating the doctor issues a cast for a scraped knee. Scary. “Seriously, you need to be more careful. I was so, so…” Worried. “You're unbelievable, you know that? What if you'd gotten hurt?”

“But I did! Look at my leg!” Kokoro wiggled it around.

“That's not…” Misaki shook her head. She couldn't ignore how ridiculous it looked, how ridiculous this whole situation was. And so, she laughed. This was so dumb. It was so… Kokoro. Relief flooded through her veins, and the aftermath of all her stress left her eyes wet and her vision blurry.

Kanon took that as her cue to leave, coaxing the others to follow. She mouthed a ‘good luck,’ and next to her, Kaoru offered a not-so-subtle wink. Hagumi just seemed excited to go buy an excess amount of colored sharpies to decorate Kokoro’s cast with later on.

And then there were two. At times like these, you can grab a moment or you can let it pass. So many times Misaki settled for the latter, enticed by the simplicity of indifference, repelled by the idea of confrontation. This time, though, she grabbed the moment and held it tight. “You should sit, rest your… injury.”

Kokoro nodded, plopping down into the chair without so much as a wince as her cast jutted out into the walkway. Well, it wasn't as if anyone else were around anyway, save for the receptionist minding her own business in what Misaki assumed to be rare downtime in the medical field.

“You look so pretty, Misaki. Like you're going to a fancy party! What are you all dressed up for?” Kokoro reached out to poke her face again, and she instinctively pulled away.

“Nothing important.” A meeting she walked out on, and idea she didn't want to be part of to begin with.

Kokoro shook her head. “If you put that much effort into it, it has to be a little important? I don't think I’ve ever seen you like this! You should do it more often.”

Unintentional, unwarranted compliments were one of Misaki’s many weaknesses. Geez, the things this girl did to her. And to think she didn't even _know_. “It was too much work. Plus, I don't really like makeup.”

A giggle. “Right, you're pretty without it too!”

Misaki averted her gaze, willing for her cheeks to lose their red hue. “I went to meet with those women. The ones who were interested in Michelle...” Nothing like bringing the mood down to avoid further embarrassment. She glanced at the shorter girl, hesitant, as if testing unpredictable waters.

As per usual, a goofy smile donned Kokoro’s face. “Oh? What did they say? Is Michelle the next big star? Even better, a movie star? I would love to see a romance movie starring Michelle! Anyone would fall for those sparkly eyes and that silky fur.”

Okay, ignoring that one. “We declined.”

“What?” The genuine surprise on her features hurt just a little.

“Can I… ask you something?” Deep breaths, Misaki, deep breaths. “Why didn't you stop me?”

Kokoro tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

‘Don't play dumb with me’ might've applied to any other human in existence, but sometimes she really couldn't tell with Kokoro. “If I accepted, I would have had to leave the band, you knew that.” Oops, “We sorry. We. Michelle and I. Why didn't you stop us?”

“I don't really understand, Misaki. Why would I do that? I want you and Michelle to smile! And if that would make you happy, then–”

Misaki shook her head. “The suits should've stepped in. You said something to them, didn't you? They were even willing to let go of Michelle…”

“I wanted Michelle to do what makes her happy! I asked the suit people not to interfere.” Kokoro nodded, as if that cleared up any confusion at all.

“Why?”

“I don't get it, why what? Did you want me to tell you ‘no?’” She’d never known Kokoro to be selfless, and she wasn't sure if it was a change she embraced wholeheartedly. “I want you and Michelle to have fun, to do what makes you smile, and if that's what it takes...” Golden eyes watered and Misaki felt the pain of a thousand knives digging into her heart. “If that's what it takes, it's okay with me.”

She had never seen Kokoro cry. It was something she never wanted to see, and now, she was the reason for it. Two delicate hands, frail and trembling, caressed Misaki’s dumb speechless face. “You've been especially frowny as of late.”

It was too late, whatever front Misaki tried to put on crumbled with those words and she fell to pieces, the both of them teary and sniffling. “Hello Happy is what made me smile. You're the one who taught me how.”

Kokoro shook her head, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. “I didn't teach you anything, silly. Everyone in the world already knows how to smile, remember? Maybe you forgot for a little while, just like before, but that's what I’m here for! To help you remember, so one day, you can smile on your own.”

“But I don't—I don't want to smile on my own. I want to smile with Hello, Happy World.” Misaki gulped, meeting her gaze. “I want to smile with you.”

Kokoro’s face scrunched up into something rather ugly, wet eyes and wet cheeks and currently crying into Misaki’s shoulder. Was it something she said? “I want to smile with you too! I really, really want that!”

“Then how come you pushed me away? You’ve been avoiding me for _weeks_ , don’t think I haven’t noticed. I just… don’t get why. If that’s what you want, then why go through all of this?” It was making her head spin, the same way it did whenever Misaki tried to understand her.

“Remember the last time we were here, with Akari? Now that I think about it… that was a long time ago!” Kokoro grinned. “That was when I came to terms with something important. I told someone in our class, but I don’t remember who? Anyway, I realized that people have different things that make them happy. Just because I like something, that doesn’t mean they’ll like it too.” Another sniffle. “It would make me happy if you and Michelle stayed, but what if it didn’t make you happy? I don’t know why, but when I thought about that, my stomach hurt. My heart felt super heavy, like it was going to sink.”

“You could have just asked me.”

“But would you have told me the truth? Or would you say what I want to hear? You’re a good person, Misaki. But I know you think a lot… I wish I could too, but it makes my brain hurt sometimes. I couldn’t make that decision, even if I wanted to. It had to be you.” Kokoro looked up at her with a red, dripping nose and a smile that made Misaki’s heart stop.

Of all the times to be selfless, this had to be the absolute worst. And on top of that, Misaki hated when she was right; who was this girl and what did she do with Kokoro? “Thank you. But Kokoro?” Misaki ruffled her hair. “Don't think about it so hard next time, you can leave that to me.” Apparently when the wheels in her brain finally turned, disaster followed in its wake.

“If I left it to you, you would think so hard your brain explodes!”

Well, they were in the right place for that. “I know, I know. Maybe it sounds lame, but I want you to be yourself, I guess? Fight for whatever makes you happy. _I_ want to see _you_ smile, and not the fake one you've been giving me lately.” Misaki held Kokoro’s shoulders with either hand, keeping her an arms length away without breaking eye contact. She inhaled. Exhaled. “It's the you that's confident and carefree, the you that speaks her mind openly, freely and without doubt, that I…” This time, she’d use the right ‘L’ word. “That's who I fell in love with.” No dancing on thin ice, no carefully calculated words (in Kokoro standards, of course). Just brutal honesty and a naive, almost childlike smile.

Kokoro stared at her with her mouth open, and Misaki half expected flies to capitalize on that free real estate. “Me?”

“Yes, _you_.” Her heart beat wildly in her chest and Misaki willed herself to continue despite all the signs that told her to run. “I love you, Kokoro. I have, for… an embarrassing amount of time, honestly. You helped me become someone I never imagined I could be. When I’m with you, I. I-I feel like I can do anything.” Even fly, which she actually did do. Not as fun as one might imagine though.

“I love you too, Misaki!” Arms were thrown around her in a tight hug.

Still, there was something she needed to be absolutely clear about. “The way I love you isn't the same as the way I love our friends, do you understand what I mean? When I say I like you, it's… a different kind of ‘like.’ The kind in your romance stories.”

Kokoro smiled and her face lit up. “I know, and I love you too! I love you! I love you, Misaki!”

“O-okay, you don't have to say it that much…” Of course she liked it, but right now, they were proclaiming their love for one another in the middle of a public area, her cheeks lit aflame.

“But I do! And saying it gives me a warm and cozy feeling.” Kokoro shuffled around in Misaki’s arms, getting comfortable and gazing up at her. “You want to do things like this, right?” She whispered, slipping her hand into Misaki’s, intertwining their fingers.

The way she said it made it sound taboo, with her quiet voice and light blush. Holding hands. Just holding hands. “Uh, yes…” She squeezed Kokoro’s hand as her lips curved into s faint smile.

“What else do you want to do?”

“We can stay like this for a while, maybe. It's nice.”

“Okay!” Kokoro giggled to herself, playing with Misaki’s fingers. “Is it my turn now? Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Oh, hold on.” Reaching into her pocket and digging around as though it were a bottomless pit, Kokoro pulled out a rock with one googly eye glued onto the side and half a crooked smile scribbled beneath it. “This is the question rock. I guess the other eye fell off, but that’s okay, I can ask Hagumi if she has more. Or...” Stuffing her hand back into her pocket, she fished out a sharpie and doodled an eyepatch in its place. “There we go! Okay, here’s my question: if you wanted to stay so badly, how come you left to see those people?”

For someone who just pulled out a rock with a face on it, that was a rather loaded question. “I was being irrational.” It made no sense now that Misaki thought about it, but that’s how life worked; looking backwards, it’s easy to pinpoint your mistakes. “For a while now, everyone’s been so busy.”

“Except for me!”

“Except for you.” Misaki sighed. “It feels like we’re drifting apart. Kanon isn’t there during lunch, we somehow see Kaoru even less than before. It’s becoming harder and harder to get everyone together, and I guess when you all told me to go for it, I felt like I was beginning to moving on, too.”

Kokoro hummed in thought. “Is moving on a bad thing?”

Misaki shrugged. “Not necessarily, but I’m not ready to. I just got you guys. We finally worked everything out. I have a place where I belong now and I don’t,” Biting the inside of her cheek, she cast her gaze away. “I don’t want to lose it. I don’t want to lose the people that make me smile.”

“But we’re not going anywhere? We’re still singing, we’re still performing, and we still have a song to finish! Nothing’s ending any time soon, and you’re not losing anyone either. Except for Kanon maybe, but you can find her anywhere! Like a bloodhound. A Kanon-hound.”

That one made Misaki laugh, but still, she didn’t see it as simply as Kokoro did. “It’ll happen someday though. It’s not forever.”

Kokoro shook her head. “Someday is so far away. I don’t know when it is, you don’t know when it is, nobody knows when it is! Someday could be in fifty years! Actually, how long do bears live?”

“Are you not at all worried about that day?” Suddenly, the rock was thrust into her hands.

“You gotta hold the question rock when you have a question.” Kokoro whispered, and as badly as her antics ruined the mood, Misaki appreciated it. It made serious conversations slightly less daunting. “But no, not really. I’ve never thought about it? Because it’s not today, and it’s not tomorrow.” Kokoro swiped the rock back. “If you spend so much time looking to the future, won’t you miss out on what’s happening now?”

That shut her up. How long had she spent worrying? How much sleep had she lost out on over the past few days? Weeks? All that time spent thinking about something that might not happen, something she couldn’t predict. “Yeah,” Misaki admitted, leaning on Kokoro and hiding her face in blonde locks. “you’re right.”

Kokoro patted her head, running her fingers through Misaki’s hair. “We still have so much left to do. Me, you, Michelle, Hagumi, Kaoru, Kanon, all six of us, together. Hello, Happy World is finished only after we make everyone in the world smile!”

Maybe sometimes it really was that easy.

“Say, Misaki, I have a brilliant idea that’ll cheer you up right away!” Kokoro pinched Misaki’s cheek, at which she reluctantly pulled back with a groan.

Misaki blinked, wiping her watery eyes with the back of her hand. “What is it?”

“Do you want to kiss?”

If there was water in her mouth, she’d spit it out right about now. The answer to that was obvious (yes, always yes), and all Misaki could do was nod like an idiot, close her eyes, and lean forward. Releasing her hand, Kokoro held her cheeks and smashed their faces together in a kiss that was not at all elegant. In fact, it actually hurt a little. Misaki began to laugh, the waterworks coming on a second time today. This was happening. This was _real._ She just kissed her crush of two years, and it was disastrous and it was adorable and it was so, so warm.

“Misaki, you’re crying! Was it my kiss? Do we need to practice more?”

“No–I mean yes, we should do it again. I’m just happy. Really, really happy.”

Kokoro’s smile widened, toothy and bright. “I am too!” She leaned in, pressing her lips against Misaki’s once more, notably with less force and more feeling.

“Kokoro-sama, your ride is waiting outside.” In accordance with her usual luck, she should have seen this coming.

Misaki pulled away abruptly, embarrassment replacing whatever it was that possessed her to almost (almost!) make out with her girlfriend in public. Wait, that’s what they were now, right? Girlfriends. She grinned, touching her lips where Kokoro was only moments ago.

“Can I stay a little longer?” Kokoro begged, and the fact that everyone knew why was borderline mortifying.

“I’m afraid circumstances won’t allow that. Your parents have come to pick you up personally. They were very worried when they caught wind of your injury.” The woman turned around, talking into what Misaki assumed to be an earpiece. “Your parents request your presence as soon as possible.”

“I miss them too, but…” The look Kokoro gave her made her want to grab her and run. And maybe in another life she would have if, you know, the suits couldn’t hunt her down or something to that extent.

“It’s okay, go see your parents.” Misaki relented, helping Kokoro stand and giving her one last hug. “I’ll see you later?”

Kokoro nodded, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “See you later! Love you!”

Misaki waved, her cheeks still burning as Kokoro was practically dragged away by the suits. Through the window, she watched her girlfriend get into a black car with tinted windows, the kind insanely rich, important people owned. As it drove off into the distance, her mind filled with thoughts of blonde hair, glimmering eyes, and soft lips.

* * *

 

 **To: Misaki Okusawa 🐻  
** **From: Kokoro Tsurumaki** **✨💕  
**miss you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

 **To: Misaki Okusawa 🐻  
** **From: Kokoro Tsurumaki** **✨💕  
**😁😍 😘 😽💛💙💛👀💙💖 💖 💓❣️❣️❣️❣️

Misaki loved her. She really did, but the onslaught of texts was harrowing. At first it was cute, texting one another nonstop the moment Kokoro left. Hours later with nothing more to talk about, the emoji uprising began. All she did was send one heart. _One._ Apparently, it was akin to holding a torch at night, a beacon for her girlfriend’s army of hearts and other indecipherable messages.

 **To: Kokoro Tsurumaki** **✨💕  
** **From: Misaki Okusawa 🐻  
**I miss you too… hey, is it alright if I call you?

Normally, she dreaded phone calls. Texting was much more efficient, an easier way to sort through her thoughts and write them down in a cleaner, more concise message. However, Kokoro was an exception. She always had been. Until the day came where hell froze over and humans gain the ability to vocalize emotes, calls were preferable.

Her phone buzzed, and on it popped up a face that made her grin like an idiot. Without missing a beat, she answered. “Kokoro?”

“Misaki! I haven't heard you in forever!” A high-pitched voice shouted through the phone, so loud Misaki held it further from her ear. At this point, she should've been prepared for that, lest hear eardrums burst.

If it were Kokoro’s voice, though, she wouldn't mind all that much. “I was just with you earlier today…”

“That might as well be a thousand years ago!”

“Or four hours ago?”

“I want to see you.” Something about the way she said it… Misaki’s heart couldn't catch a break.

She leaned back into her bed, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s getting late, maybe tomorrow? We’ve got the whole weekend to hang out, we can do whatever you want.”

“Hmm… are you doing anything right now?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon!”

Kokoro hung up before Misaki could ask what exactly that meant. It was ominous, and she wondered if she should be locking the doors and windows right about now. Alone on a friday night… pathetic? Sometimes so, but she preferred the rare nights spent alone, her parents out on a date night and her siblings with their friends. Rest, relaxation, silence, nothing being thrown at her window.

Wait.

Something hit her window a second time with a light _thwack_ , followed by the ring of a can hitting cement. She already know what it was, or rather, who it was. What did she do, take a jet over to Misaki’s house? Come to think of it, did she ever even _tell_ Kokoro where she lived? At the very least, Kokoro was back to her old self now. Didn’t make her any less tiring, though.

With a groan Misaki rolled out of bed and opened the window, only to be hit square in the face by whatever the hell Kokoro had been throwing. She rubbed her nose and looked down at the can on her floor, a string attached to one end that lead out the window. The telephone? No, it wasn’t the same one. Misaki lifted it up, and immediately dropped it upon seeing the label. No fucking way. Nothing like a tin can phone made from cans of caviar probably worth more than her entire house. It wasn’t a shallow can, either; rich people were terrifying.

Kokoro’s hair shimmered in the light of the setting sun, and the scene would have been breathtaking if not for the limousine parked outside her house, making her girlfriend stick out like a sore thumb (her bright pink cast and equally bright, colorfully mismatched outfit didn't exactly blend in either). Misaki leaned on the windowsill and sighed. “Hey–” Kokoro jumped around, making an ‘X’ with her arms and gesturing furiously to the telephone which, as she brought it to her mouth, smelled of the ocean. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

“I told you, I missed you a lot!” Just as before, Kokoro shouted loud enough for her to hear regardless of the telephone. Still, it was cute.

“You couldn’t have waited one night?”

“Nope! That, and I want to kiss again. It was fun, wasn’t it?”

“K-Kokoro! You can’t just say something like that out in the streets!” Great, her neighbors knew she not only went out dressed as a big pink bear from time to time, but she was a big gay too.

Her hand on her hip, Kokoro shrugged. “Why not? I want the world to know how much I love you!”

Yes, great, but also: no. No more, proclamations of love outside her window was far too much. “Okay, okay! Do you want to come inside?”

“Yes! Oh, but take this!” One of the suits stepped out of the limousine and handed her a crisply folded paper airplane. Kokoro took aim, and Misaki quickly moved out of the way to avoid two injuries in one day. She valued her eyes, thank you very much.

The paper airplane crash landed on her chair, and Misaki opened it up to reveal a crayon drawing of the two of them (most likely) surrounded by hearts and flowers and smiley faces and other Kokoro-esque designs. Michelle was there too, holding hands with them both.

Oh crap, Michelle.

Misaki seldom invited friends over, and as such she hung the suit up in plain sight. The doorbell went off as she shoved Michelle into her closet, the thrusters in her feet proving difficult to squish in there alongside the rest of the body. _Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding._ Kokoro relentlessly smashed the doorbell, and as Misaki shut the closet door and ran through the house, she felt as though she were in the midst of a battlefield. She swung the door open, forcing a smile.

“Misaki!” Kokoro wasted no time pulling her into a tight hug, of which quelled Misaki’s annoyance with the doorbell ordeal. “I missed you!”

Misaki laughed, her shoulders relaxing as she returned the hug. “I missed you, too.”

“You know, I’ve never been to your house before! It’s a bit smaller than I imagined. But it’s cozy and it’s yours, so I love it too!” She let go and ran around, peeking into the kitchen and into all the rooms until she found Misaki’s, promptly jumped onto her bed. “Oh! Did you open the airplane?”

Actually, it was still clutched between her fingers. “Yup, I did.”

Kokoro grinned. “It’s a love letter!”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Misaki played it off, but really, the moment Kokoro left this drawing was going on her wall. Thankfully, she hadn’t had time to put the others up. That would’ve been embarrassing.

Kokoro patted the spot next to her, an invitation to her own bed. Misaki climbed in and Kokoro leaned over to rest her head on her shoulder, their backs against the wall. Fingers ran through silky blonde locks as they stayed there, sharing the same silence. The fact that they could do something like that made Misaki happy, unbelievably so. Honestly, it still felt as though she were dreaming.

“Psst,” A finger poked her cheek. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

“You’ve gotta be thinking about something!”

Misaki shrugged. “You, I guess.”

“I’m thinking about you, too.” And a lot more than that apparently, as she began to go on and on about a hundred other things, all while she played with Misaki’s hands. The places they should go, the things they should do. How she wanted to go play with Pen-chan, how she wanted to go watch Kaoru’s play, Hagumi’s games. She spoke of ideas for the future, a concert beneath the sea, another with more bears and various other animals, so Michelle would feel more at home. Nothing that would work, but Misaki loved to listen. While Kokoro spoke she slipped her hand into Misaki’s and their fingers, like their friends, intertwined. “What do you want to do now?”

Ah, she hadn’t given that much thought at all. “We could watch a movie, or, um. I think I’ve got some games we could play together…” What a stellar host she was, but in her defence, her guest arrived unannounced and uninvited. “I don’t care though, we can do whatever you want to do.”

Kokoro shifted around in her arms, lifting her head from Misaki’s shoulder. “What if I want to kiss you?”

“We… can do that, yeah.” Misaki tried to ignore the way her heart raced so quickly from something so simple. They hadn’t even kissed yet, could she possibly be any weaker?

This time, Misaki was ready for it. A shared kiss in her own home, on her own bed, far from the eyes of the general public (thank God). Less tears, though the warmth of it all did give her the urge to cry again. Kokoro’s lips pressed against hers softly this time, her movements slow and thoughtful. Still a little awkward, as neither of them had experience, but the lack of teeth clacking was much appreciated.

They broke apart, and before Misaki could object (not that she ever would), Kokoro leaned in to kiss her again.

* * *

 

Two became three, three became four, Kokoro touched the tip of her tongue to Misaki’s lips, and before long their kisses became messier, more needy. Kokoro’s hands were everywhere all at once: in her hair, on her cheeks, feeling down her sides, brushing against the skin beneath her shirt, moving higher, higher—

Reflexively, Misaki grabbed her wrist and held it from going further.

“You don't want to?”

“D-do you? Is this not moving a little too fast for you?” Sure, she had sleepless nights like anyone else did, thoughts that were less than appropriate. She wanted this, God she wanted it, but it had literally been less than a day. Not even twenty four hours.

Kokoro hummed. “Well, if it makes me happy and it makes you happy, I don't see why not?”

“Are you… sure? Absolutely sure you want this?” Making out was one thing, sex was another entirely. “Do you even know how this works?”

“Yup! I’ve read about it before.” Exclaimed her girlfriend triumphantly.

“Exactly what kind of books have you been reading? Remind me to confiscate your library card later…”

Hands inched their way up her stomach, making her shiver. “I’m sure, Misaki. Ab-so-lutely sure! One hundred and ten percent–”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Please say something if you want to stop, alright? If anything makes you uncomfortable, or…”

“If it's Misaki, I have nothing to worry about. So is this okay?” Kokoro’s hands rested below her chest, and, her beet red face bathed in the light of the setting sun, Misaki nodded. She rid herself of her bra the moment she got home, and a part of her wished she had time to put it back on to tackle the vulnerability she felt, as counterproductive as that might be.

Slender fingers danced across heated skin, holding her, touching her, and Misaki released an embarrassing whine as Kokoro rolled a nipple between her thumb and index finger, a spark of pleasure shooting straight down to her groin. She had tried on her own once or twice, a result she blamed on the woes of adolescence, but it felt nothing like this. Misaki wasn't an idiot, she had long known that particular region was… sensitive, but experiencing those sensations herself was unlike anything she ever felt before. And she wanted to feel it again.

Misaki averted her gaze and with her neck exposed, Kokoro began to trail kisses up to her jaw, her cheek, and finally, her lips. Her movements were clumsy, sloppy, but they were more than enough for Misaki who already fared poorly. So poorly that, as Kokoro sucked on her tongue and she moaned into the kiss, Misaki wasn't quite sure what to do with her own hands, overwhelmed by emotion and desire. She placed one on Kokoro’s back, pulling her closer and reveling in her warmth. Yes, that was a start.

“Misaki,” Kokoro whispered, their faces so close their hot breaths mingled between them, “take this off.” She tugged at the shirt scrunched up above Misaki’s breasts.

Lacking the will to fight back and pressure building between her legs, Misaki did as she was told, lifting her shirt above her head and discarding it to the floor. As the sun disappeared below the horizon her room darkened, dimly lit by the street light outside her window. That didn't stop her from covering her breasts with both arms.

“How come you're covering yourself?” Kokoro asked, genuine confusion on her face.

Imagine having that much confidence. “I don't know, I guess I’m just not used to this? I’ve never, um. Done this before. It's a little nerve wracking.” She wasn't a fan of the way she looked, she knew each and every one of her flaws, but then again, so did everyone else. That's how it went, right? You find someone who doesn't care about any of them.

For Misaki, Kokoro was that person. “But I think you're beautiful. Here especially!” She said, her hand caressing Misaki’s cheek. “This is the prettiest part.”

“That’s…” Misaki paused. “Thank you.”

“Would it help if I took mine off too?” Kokoro didn't wait for an answer, slipping her shirt off, tossed aside in the dark.

It helped in more ways than one; Kokoro was blessed with more than money and talent, Misaki realized as she stared at the pretty girl that loomed above her, dark eyes drawn to round, shapely breasts. It felt shameful to stare, but where else was she supposed to look? They were… right there, right in front of her. Hesitantly, Misaki took them in her hands.

She took pleasure in Kokoro’s soft mewls, returning the gesture by teasing the pink nubs just as Kokoro had done to her, partially because Misaki was unsure of what else to do. Thankfully, Kokoro seemed to enjoy it. She bucked her hips and shifted her body forward, and it was then that Misaki felt it press against her.

God. Really?

The cast. Big and pink and currently in the way.

“K-kokoro, your leg.” Misaki gasped as it brushed against her inner thigh, still clothed. Kokoro made a big scene of trying to pull it up and around to straddle Misaki’s hips. That, of course, didn't work in the slightest.

“Hmm.” Kokoro seemed only mildly inconvenienced, a far cry from Misaki who was, quite frankly, a hot mess.

And suddenly, the door swung open. Misaki scrambled to hide herself beneath her blanket. “Kokoro-sama, shall we remove your cast?”

What were they doing here? How did they get in? Had they been there this entire time? “W-we don't need your help, thank you very much! You can go home now!” Torn between mortification and want, Misaki buried her face in Kokoro’s chest, in part to cover her up too. “Get them out of here, _please.”_

“But they're here to help! I did have a hard time moving my leg around…” For emphasis, Kokoro attempted to move her leg and instead flopped over on her side.

Misaki groaned. “It’s alright, we can do this another time, when you're all healed up. It’s no big deal.”

“Don't you want to keep going though? I thought you were enjoying it!”

“Stop talking. Please.”

The suits intervened, a saw in one of their hands. “It'll only take a minute.”

“Okie dokie! I’ll be right back then. Wait for me, Misaki!” With that Kokoro grabbed her shirt off the floor and hobbled over to the suits.

Well then. That officially takes the cake for most embarrassing moment of her life.

Rolling over to shove her face in her pillow and hide until, preferably, the end of time itself, the distant sound of sawing resounded within her home, and a few minutes later, Kokoro strolled back in with a completely healthy leg save for the smallest band-aid in the world. And it had minions on it. Sometimes, Misaki wondered what she did to deserve such divine punishment.

Kokoro jumped back into bed, causing Misaki to bounce. “It's kinda dark in here, we should turn the lights on!”

“No.” Misaki replied, pulling the covers over her head. “Maybe next time, sorry.” Make no mistake, she wanted nothing more than to see her girlfriend’s lithe body, but she wasn't yet comfortable exposing her own. Where they were now already exceeded all expectations; baby steps.

“Okay! This is nice too.” In all honesty, it wasn't even that dark with the moon and street lights working in tandem to illuminate her room. They did wonders for Kokoro, who removed her shirt once more, slipped under the blankets, and wrapped her arms around Misaki from behind. “Are you pouting?”

“I’m not.” The moment was ruined, she still felt uncomfortable warm, and her girlfriend had no concept of reading the mood.

Kokoro laughed and hugged her tighter, resting her head on the back of Misaki’s neck. “Then do you want to continue?” She whispered, moving Misaki’s hair aside and planting a kiss on the skin there.

Misaki shivered, squirming in Kokoro’s grip, turning around to face her. “Yes.” When you've got a cute girl lifting herself up to straddle your hips, her center warm on your stomach, her hands in your hair and her mouth on yours, it's near impossible to refuse. At least, for big weak gays such as herself.

Her heart pounding in her chest, Misaki ran her fingers across the skin of Kokoro’s thigh, riding the skirt up as she dared to move higher, spurred on by languid kisses and labored breaths. Unclipping her skirt, Kokoro rolled her hips, a soft moan escaping her lips, her eyes shut and and flush of her cheeks visible even in the dim light. The damp fabric of her underwear pressed against Misaki’s torso was an obvious indication of what came next, and she would do her best to take the first step, nerve-wracking as it might be. Breathless, Misaki pushed herself up, Kokoro in her lap, hardened nipples brushing against her chest.

“Misaki,” Kokoro breathed, want in her gaze, “I feel a little weird.”

“A good weird or a bad weird?” The last thing she wanted was to push too far and send them over the wrong edge.

“Good, I think. A different weird, one I’ve never felt before.” Kokoro took hold of her hand, guiding it over her stomach, lower, to the waistband of her skirt. “This is where it feels strange, down here...” She dipped Misaki’s hands beneath the skirt, into her panties where fingers met hot, slippery flesh.

Misaki breathed, deeply. She was soaked. “I’m going to touch you now, is that okay?”

Kokoro nodded, wrapping her arms around Misaki’s neck. She gasped, a high-pitched moan soon to follow as Misaki gently stroked her wetness, taking note of Kokoro’s reactions as she explored. The urge to squeeze her own legs together and quell the throbbing grew with Kokoro’s increasing moans, with each buck of her hips. Misaki dipped down, Kokoro’s hands now buried in her hair, and flicked her tongue against the tip of a nipple, taking pleasure in the way it hardened with her touch.

“You're so…” Misaki couldn't bring herself to say it. _Wet_. She circled Kokoro’s entrance, coating her finger in the warm juices there. Finger hovering near the opening, she hesitated, knowing what to do but not quite sure how to do it, afraid of hurting the girl she loved.

Kokoro seemed to sense her reluctance, flashing a smile and grinding her hips against Misaki’s hand. “You can put it in, it's okay, Misaki. I trust you.”

Those words, kind and reassuring and full of love, made her heart swell, its ceaseless pounding deafening. Kokoro whimpered as the tip of Misaki's finger pushed past her entrance, her walls squeezing down the intrusion, smooth and slippery. Fingernails dug into Misaki’s back as she slid the rest of her finger in, pausing to allow Kokoro to get used to the feeling, hooking her free hand around Kokoro’s rear, squeezing the supple flesh in her hand and holding her steady as she slowly pulled her finger out and sunk it back in.

Kokoro sighed, lifting herself enough to sink down on Misaki’s fingers as her pace quickened, knees on either side of Misaki spreading further as she rode the sensations. “It feels good,” She gasped, moaning, struggling to keep herself upright, “r-really good.”

Misaki curled her finger and winced as Kokoro bit down on the skin of her shoulder, stifling her sounds as they grew in volume. It hurt, though the exhilaration of it all only added fuel to the fire burning down low. Kokoro’s desperation, her cries, the wet substance that coated Misaki’s hand and the obscene sounds that filled her room—she made it happen. Kokoro felt this way because of _her_.

“Misaki, I-I’m…” Kokoro’s hips moved to her rhythm, off-sync as she neared the edge. Misaki moved her thumb up to rub quick circles around Kokoro’s clit and within moments she came undone, crying out as her back arched and her hot walls tightened around the digit. Her body instinctively twitched before relaxing against Misaki’s own, and she pulled her finger out as Kokoro’s energy subsided.

“Was that… okay? You're okay?” Misaki supported her weight until Kokoro lifted her head, her signature smile wide across her lips.

“I’m better than okay!” She chirped, and Misaki wondered where she got her energy from; a moment earlier she looked ready to flop over and sleep for twelve hours whereas now, minutes later, she appeared more than ready to bounce off the walls and run one or three miles down the street. Kokoro then ran her fingers along the bite mark on Misaki’s shoulder, which throbbed but didn't bother her as much as something else pulsing between her legs. “Does it hurt?”

Misaki shook her head. “No, not really.”

“Want a band-aid?”

“Not if it's got minions on it.”

“Aww, that's no fun.” Kokoro kissed where she’d left a mark before pushing Misaki down on her back and crawling atop her. “Hey, Misaki.”

“Yes?” She breathed, rubbing her legs together in a weak attempt to quell her desire.

“That was a lot of fun.” Hooking her finger on the waistband of Misaki’s shorts, Kokoro slid them down. “I want you to feel good too, the way I did.”

With her boring, plain white panties exposed, Misaki suddenly panicked. If she knew this would happen, that someone would see her, _all_ of her, she would've gotten a wax, maybe worn something more attractive. “You don't have to.”

“But that wouldn't be fair.” Kokoro pressed her hand against the dark spot on Misaki’s underwear, her smile growing ever bigger when Misaki bucked her hips into the touch. “I want to. And I think you want to, too.”

Misaki relented, fearing she might actually die if she didn't get her release soon. “Fine, you win.” Not that it was much of a fight to begin with. Slipping her hand into Kokoro’s and intertwining their fingers, she opened her legs ever so slightly to allow her girlfriend access. “Touch me too, please…” At this rate, her hair disheveled, her cheeks burning, and her panties soaked, she was so easy. But for Kokoro, she always would be.

Kokoro took Misaki’s bottom lip into her mouth, grazing it with her teeth before diving in with her tongue; it felt so unbelievably good rubbing against her own, something Misaki once thought to be a little disgusting and borderline unsanitary. A trail of saliva connected their mouths as Kokoro broke their kiss, trailing more down her neck, sucking on her pulse point and continuing down her body. Kokoro made quick work of Misaki’s underwear, her nude body now on display. Cold air came into contact with sensitive skin, and Misaki fought the urge to squeeze her legs together as Kokoro spread them apart, running a finger down her glistening slit before bringing up to her mouth and licking it clean.

Misaki groaned, covering her face with her arm and arching her back when Kokoro’s fingers returned, fervently stroking her heat. One hand grabbed her wrist, forcing it down at her side. “Don't hide, Misaki. I let you see me, right? Let me see you now.”

With a shaky nod, her heart rate soaring, a satisfied Kokoro continued her work, spreading Misaki’s lips and running her tongue through the folds. With a playful lick to her clit, Misaki moaned, one hand in Kokoro’s and the other grasping for the sheets as Kokoro nipped and sucked down below, her gleeful hums creating pleasurable vibrations that made Misaki cry out.

Kokoro plunged her tongue in and out, kneading Misaki’s inner thigh and lapping at her entrance. Misaki’s back arched, unable to hold back her voice, so, so close to release. “K-Kokoro,” She moaned, her knuckles white as she squeezed the corner of her pillow as though her life depended on it. “Kokoro, please…”

Holding Misaki’s hand tight in her own, Kokoro easily slid a finger inside, her slender digit eliciting sounds Misaki didn't even know she could make as she rolled her hips, desperate for release. Kokoro pressed her tongue against Misaki’s clit, taking it into her mouth and _sucking_ . Pressure built up inside her, hot, unbearable, until finally, _finally_ —

Misaki nearly screamed, her toes curled and her body shook, pleasure sending tremors through her system as she came _hard_ , her hips slowing their movements while she rode down her orgasm. In her sweaty hand, Kokoro squeezed. Misaki squeezed back. “I love you.”

Kokoro slid up to kiss her, the taste of herself potent on her tongue. “I love you too! Wanna guess how much?” Pushing herself up, she straddled Misaki, a warm wetness slippery on her stomach. “This much.”

Still? Misaki gulped, placing a hand on Kokoro's thigh. “Oh.”

“Want to do that again?”

Misaki could feel exhaustion deep in her bones, and honestly, she would give almost anything to rest. Almost. She could argue the time, how late it was, the fact that they had the whole weekend ahead of them, but the glint in Kokoro’s eyes suggested it was a demand, not a question.

Just this once, she decided to live in the moment. Who cares how dead she’d be in the morning. Regardless of the future, Kokoro was here, now, her lips against Misaki’s, and she wasn't going anywhere else. She kept her eyes in the present, on the girl who loved her unconditionally, and let her worries flow away with each and every kiss.

Ends were for tomorrow, not yesterday, and as her phone lit up with countless messages from her friends and she held Kokoro tight in her arms, Misaki smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thanks to everyone I bothered for help with this! I'm still super rusty but I think it came out okay ;; the nsfw scene was gonna be a dlc but yknow... u only............. live once........................ 
> 
> Maybe more to come if this one goes over well! There's a bunch of ships I wanna write :^)


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